An Unlikely Pair
by AnneM.Oliver
Summary: They were an unlikely pair. He knew it, so did she. Everyone did. It didn't matter,they were merely friends, hardly even that. There was certainly no affection, no romance. Just friendship. Neither wanted more. Honestly. Well, maybe. Nominated fiction.
1. Chapter 1

_This story was nominated in round three of the **Dramione Awards** for Best Romance and Best Fluff and it came in second in Best Fluff. It was also nominated for the **New Library Awards**, Best Amortentia. Thanks to everyone who nominated and voted for it!_

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_All characters and canon situations belong to JK Rowling and I make no money from publishing or writing this story. Thank you. _

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**An Unlikely Pair**

by

Anne M.

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**Chapter 1 –**

Taking a deep breath, in and out, she temporarily shut her eyes. She could do this. She could get through this. It didn't matter that he was getting married. She didn't love him anymore, anyway. It really didn't matter.

Except it did.

She watched the groom and the bride exchange their vows, and her heart almost stopped. It was supposed to be her up there with him. It was supposed to be her wedding, her white gown, her friends and family. What went wrong? When did he stop loving her? Did she ever really love him?

The wedding was over now. Everyone was standing. It was the proper thing to do, stand as the bride and groom passed, to show respect. She remained in her seat. She wouldn't stand for anyone. She wanted to cry. She followed the throng outside, to see the happy pair off to the reception. She even threw some rice. She aimed right for his face. That made her smile the first time all day. She shook her head, to remove the rice that landed there, and walked back in the chapel and sat down.

Soon, the chapel emptied and she was all alone. Everyone probably went to the Burrow for the reception. Would anyone even notice that she wasn't there? Probably not. Harry wouldn't notice. He would be too busy with 'Best Man' duties. Ginny wouldn't notice, since she was the Matron of Honour. Ron certainly wouldn't notice, since he married another.

Hermione Granger was a strong woman. She would survive this little heartache and move forward. Outwardly, it didn't even bother her. When she received the invitation, she wanted to throw it away, but she had to keep up appearances. Therefore, she came. She saw. She conquered. Now she needed a bottle of vodka and some good old-fashioned self-pity, and come Monday morning, she would be fine.

She stood, walked in front of the pew, and down the aisle. She should have turned left, toward the door. She turned right, toward the altar. She stood there, with the multi-coloured rays of light from the stained glass window dancing all around her on the light, pine floor.

She looked up and imagined it was her wedding. She imagined her father walking her down the aisle, her mother dabbing a hanky to dry her eye. Her groom, waiting for her, with a smile on his face, but the only problem was she could not picture her groom. She knew she certainly did not picture Ron standing there with her. So what was her problem, anyway?

She turned around to walk out the door, but opted to sit in the second pew from the end instead. She sat there, hung her head, and began to cry.

The door opened, slightly. She stiffened in her seat. She turned quickly around to see who entered. The sight of the person in front of her shocked her. It was Draco Malfoy. He saw her as well, and stepped back outside. He must have seen her crying. Damn. She hadn't seen him in three years. The last time she saw him was at Ginny and Harry's wedding. It shocked her at the time that he was invited, but to be truthful, she didn't pay him much mind at the time. She was busy that day celebrating the fact that her best friend was marrying the girl of his dream.

She turned her face back around and wiped her eyes. She mustn't let him see her crying. She walked out the doors, and saw him sitting on the steps, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He looked up at her as she walked out the door. She sat down beside him. "Hello, Malfoy, I didn't see you at the wedding."

"Really? I saw you," he said. "I was in the pew right behind you. You didn't look like you enjoyed the ceremony very much," he added lightly.

"I don't suppose I did," she agreed.

"Do you want to be alone to wallow in self pity a bit longer, or are you heading to the reception?" he asked.

"I'm not wallowing in self pity," she pointed out.

"Yes you were," he laughed.

"No, I really wasn't," she said again. He glared at her and frowned. She said, "Fine, I was wallowing. What are you still doing here? Why aren't you at the reception?"

"Heavens," he laughed, "it was asking a lot of me to just come to the ceremony. I certainly cannot imagine myself entertaining the thought of going to a reception with a bunch of Weasleys. I would probably be blinded by a sea of red hair."

She laughed. "Then why are you still here?"

"I was waiting for you, of course," he said.

"Why?"

"I don't know, really," he answered honestly. "You just seemed sad, and I don't know, but I thought I would wait for you. Do you want me to leave?"

Did she? Did she want Draco Malfoy to leave her alone?

She didn't even know the answer to that.

She decided to change the subject. "Were you invited here by Ron or by Pansy?"

"Pansy, of course," he said, standing up and crossing over to sit down on a small bench by the cobblestone walk.

She remained where she was.

He said, "So, are you mourning the fact that Weasley married someone besides you, or are you mourning the fact that you weren't the one getting married?"

"Aren't they the same thing?" she asked.

"No, you could just feel jealous that you weren't the one up there in the white dress, the gloves, and the veil. Weasley doesn't have to fit in that equation," he pointed out.

"Well, then," she mumbled, trying to be truthful, "I guess I am jealous. I want the marriage, the house, and the kids. It doesn't mean I want Ron."

"Hooray for you," he said, standing back up. He seemed restless.

"What do you mean, hooray for me?" she asked, confused.

"I'm just glad you can admit the truth. I would hate to think you would shed a tear over that red-headed vermin," he laughed.

"Oh," she said softly.

He came and sat back down next to her on the wooden step again. She looked down at his black shoes. He said, "Are my shoes interesting?" She looked back up to his face and he asked another question, "What do you do now, Granger?"

"I'm a healer at St. Mungo's. How about you?" she asked him as she looked in his silver-grey eyes.

"I work for the Ministry, top secret, mind you. If I tell you, I would have to kill you," he grinned.

"I thought you worked with Harry and Ron in the Auror department," she said.

"If you knew, why did you ask?" he wondered, raising one brow.

She shrugged. "Just making small talk, I guess," she said nonchalantly. She stood up. "I should go."

"Oh yes, to the sea of red hair, or as the common people call it, the reception," Draco said, more to himself. He stood as well.

"No, I'm going home," she admitted. "I don't think I'll be missed, and I just know there's a bottle of vodka at the store with my name on it, waiting for me to take it home."

He laughed a true laugh and said, "Not an alcoholic these days, are you?"

"No, just a binge drinker," she lied. She laughed as well. "It was nice to see you again, Draco. Maybe I'll see you the next time an ex-Slytherin marries an ex-Gryffindor."

He smiled and said, "Seriously, Granger, when is that likely to happen again?"

"True," she agreed.

"Bye, Granger."

"Bye."

She started to apparate away but he walked up to her and said, "By the way, you have some rice in your hair."

"Do I?" she wondered.

He reached up and removed several grains of white rice. He said, "Your hair is so much softer than I ever imagined it being."

She didn't know what to say to that. "Thank you?', or, 'You've imagined my hair?' What? Instead, she put her own hands up to her hair and shook it again. She said, "Did I get it all?"

He leaned in closer. He smelled like a slice of heaven here on earth. She actually took a deep sniff. She hoped he couldn't tell. He looked intently at her hair and said, "I believe you did." He looked away quickly, back toward the chapel. She wondered why. When he turned back toward her, she was still standing very close to him.

"See you at the next wedding," he said again.

"Till then," she said, holding up her hand.

Again, before she could leave, he said, "Would you like company tonight, or is it just going to be your and your special bottle of vodka?"

She grinned and said, "What did you have in mind?"

He smiled a crooked smile and said, "Take my arm and find out."

She shook her head, 'no', but came up and put her hand on his outstretched arm. "After you, Malfoy."

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	2. Chapter 2

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**Chapter 2- **

He nearly laughed his arse off when Granger threw that handful of rice right in Weasel's face. Draco was sure it was intentional, for she ducked behind another guest so no one would know it was she, but Draco saw the whole thing. Well, bully for her, he thought.

He sat behind her during the wedding. She kept her head down during most of the ceremony. She even said, "Ha!" right out loud when Weasley proclaimed to 'love, honour, and cherish' Pansy. He watched her go back in the chapel after the wedding party and the other guests left. Maybe she forgot something. He would just sit outside and wait for her. He didn't know why he wanted to wait, he just did. She looked like she could use a friend. Since there wasn't one of her friends present, he would have to do.

He was now on speaking terms with Potter and Weasley, not friends, but friendly. However, he had not seen Granger in three years. He knew they were all still friends; at least Potter and she were, because Potter had a picture of her on his desk. Draco stopped and looked at it occasionally. She really had grown into her looks. She was almost pretty now. Actually, she was even prettier in person. Why the Weasel picked Pansy over Hermione, Draco would never know, but then again, he always did question the ginger haired man's sanity.

He knew she was a healer now. He might have to get hurt so he could go see her. That thought made him smile.

She certainly had been in the chapel for a long time now. Perhaps she disapparated from inside. He was probably out here waiting for her for no apparent reason. He was wasting his time. He decided to open the door and see if she was still there.

She was.

She was crying.

Damn.

Surely, she was not mourning the loss of Weaslebee. She was smarter than that. Maybe some of that rice hit her in the eye. That must have been why she was crying.

She was crying for goodness sakes. What to do? What to do? Should he wait for her now? She saw him open the door. She turned and looked right at him. If he left now, she would think he was an insensitive git. He would have to wait for her.

After exchanging pleasantries with her, she said she was going to go home and get drunk. Not on his watch, she wasn't. He suggested they go somewhere together and to his astonishment, she agreed.

He apparated them both directly to the Burrow.

"Why are we here?" she asked, "I thought you weren't coming to the reception. Sea of red hair, remember?"

"I thought it would be fun to come here and make fun of people. I know making fun of people always makes me feel better. Reminds me that I am superior," Draco remarked, adding, "And I'm sure they have plenty of vodka here."

"But, I wasn't planning on coming here," she said softly.

"It will be fun," Draco urged. "We can have some alcohol, something good to eat, and as stated before, sit around and make fun of people."

She laughed and said, "But, that's not nice."

"And your point is?" he asked.

"My point is that, that's not nice," she said again.

"And your point is?" he said again, adding, "Whoever said I was nice? You aren't that nice either, if I recall."

"I'm very nice," she said.

"Blah, blah, blah," he mocked, "That's all I hear when you say things like that." Draco steered her toward an empty table, and they sat down.

Harry Potter took that moment to walk up to the pair. He thought it was odd they were sitting by each other. For all he knew, they were not even friends. Harry leaned down, kissed Hermione's cheek, and said, "I was worried. I thought maybe you wouldn't show up to the reception."

Draco excused himself to go get them some drinks.

"I'm surprised you even noticed I wasn't here, Harry," she said.

"Of course I noticed. I've been worried about you all day. You seemed sad at the chapel," he said.

"No, I'm fine," she lied.

Draco came back and heard what she said. He knew she was lying to Harry. Draco said, "Potter."

"Malfoy," Harry said back.

Harry squeezed Hermione's hand and said, "Come sit with us."

"At the wedding party table?" she asked, shocked. "I hardly think so. Go on, Harry, have fun."

He leaned down and said, "I want to make sure you're alright."

Draco said, "She's fine."

"I really wasn't speaking to you," Harry said. Just then, Ginny called to Harry that it was time to take some pictures. He gave Hermione's hand one last squeeze, and left her there, unsmiling, and somewhat sad again. Draco would have to change her mood.

"Here's your drink," he said, handing her a tumbler.

She took a big swig and then coughed and sputtered. "This is straight up," she complained.

"You wanted vodka," he said, "so I gave you vodka, as requested."

"Not straight, Malfoy." She smiled.

"I didn't realize you were a lightweight, give it here," he said. He returned a moment later and said, "A vodka Collins for the lady."

"Thank you," she said, taking the glass. He sat back down beside her.

She still made a funny face while drinking the drink. He said, "For heaven's sakes, Granger, have you even ever had alcohol?"

"Don't waste your time making fun of me, find someone else," Hermione said, putting her glass down on the table. "I'll start. You pick someone, and I will make fun of them."

"Fine, let the games begin," Draco smiled. "How about that lady?" He pointed toward a woman.

Hermione said, "First, her hair looks like it was caught in a hurricane, and her robes look like a troll vomited on them. She even has more of a pug face then Pansy does."

Draco laughed and said, "That's the bride's mother."

"NO!" she said, hitting his hand.

"YES!" he mocked, hitting her hand back.

She laughed for thirty seconds and then said, "The apple certainly doesn't fall far from the tree. Your turn, that man there, go for it."

Draco said, "He must have let a blind monkey pick out his robes, for everyone knows black and yellow look horrendous together. He looks like a giant bumblebee."

Hermione said, "Buzz, Buzz. That's Luna Lovegood's father, and it probably was a blind humdinger pixie, not a monkey."

"A what?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Nothing, pick for me now," she urged.

He thought, 'that's the spirit', and said, "The woman with the funny hat."

Hermione said, "She must have transfigured a peacock and put it on her head, not realizing that the spell didn't work."

"Pansy's aunt," he laughed.

"You liar!" she squealed.

"Never," he said.

"Never?" she begged to differ.

"Okay, all the time, but that really is her aunt," he amended.

Hermione said, "Tell me about that lady over there," and she pointed at Ron's aunt Muriel.

"That old lady looks like she had her face cursed to resemble the back side of an orangutan," Draco said.

Hermione laughed so hard some of her drink came out of her mouth. She said, "That's Ron's great aunt!" She wiped her chin.

"It's kind of funny," he said, "how all the really ugly people here are related to the bride and groom."

Hermione stated, "Goodness, can you imagine what their children will look like?"

Draco said, "Apparently they will look like orangutan arses with peacocks on their heads."

That made Hermione smile and laugh. She said, "I'm having fun, Malfoy, Thanks."

He asked her, "Do you want anything to eat?"

"Sure," she said, "but I can get it."

"We could go up and get something, together," he suggested.

"That's a plan," she decided. The alcohol was making her feel all warm inside. She stood up just as he did. He pulled her chair out for her. She turned to walk to the buffet table, and he had his hand on the small of her back. He felt like it was such an intimate gesture, but surely, she would not feel the same.

There was a long line at the table and he leaned toward her and said, "All these Weasley relatives, I swear. We will be in line forever."

She just turned around and smiled at him. She said, "Do you want to go back and sit down and wait for the line to die down. I'm sure there's plenty of food, knowing Mrs. Weasley."

"Yes, let's come back in a moment. Would you join me on a walk around the garden?" he asked.

"Certainly," she said. He held out his arm, she placed her hand on it, and he thought he felt a warm feeling spread throughout his entire body. Of course, it was a rather warm day, and the sun was very bright out, as it was only shortly after noontime. That was the reason for the warmth that spread through his whole body, and the reason his neck felt prickly and hot. That had to be the reason.

"Are you okay, Malfoy?" she inquired.

"Never better," he said, as he led her away from the crowd.

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	3. Chapter 3

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**Chapter 3 – **

Hermione Granger was having fun. She was having fun with Draco Malfoy. Would wonders never cease?

Here they were, at Ron and Pansy's reception, and she was enjoying herself. She thought it would be pure torture to be here, but instead, it was enjoyable.

As they stepped around the large back garden, she would steal glances his way. He was walking with his hands behind his back. Her hands were in front of her body. They certainly were a study of contrast.

She looked at him once more and he inquired, "Do I have something on my nose?"

She stopped walking and looked at his nose intently. "I don't see anything, why?"

"You keep looking at me," he said.

"Sorry," she said, taking a deep breath, she resumed her walk.

He caught up to her and said, "Tell me what you were thinking."

"We are just so different, and I think it's strange that I'm having a nice time here with you," she admitted.

"We aren't that different," he said, pointing out. "We're both people. We both have heads. We both need air to breathe."

She knitted her brows together and said, "We both have heads? Is that really something you would say we have in common? Heads?"

"We do both have heads," he said with a laugh.

"Fine, I'll give you that one," she said.

They stopped by a large tree and she leaned against the trunk. "I was thinking more along the lines like, I'm a Muggle-born, you're a pureblood, and how much we hated each other in school. You know, things like that."

"Oh," he said, standing in front of her, "I understand. It's like, you're good, I'm evil, you're smart, I'm dumb, you're poor, I'm rich. That sort of thing."

She looked at him for a moment with a funny smile on her face. "I'm not poor," was all she said, unable to debunk his other statements. Hermione laughed and he joined in. He leaned one arm on the large trunk, right next to her head.

"But the other things are true, right?" he said, dangerously close.

"You might not be evil. I don't know you well enough to judge," she said.

He leaned even closer, winked at her, and said, "I'm evil as the day is long." He pushed off the tree and started walking once again. She stayed by the tree for a moment longer, and then ran to catch up to him.

"Why aren't you married, Malfoy?" she suddenly laughed.

He turned to look at her inquisitive face and said, "Are you proposing?"

"Not today," she smiled. After waiting for his answer, and realizing none was forthcoming, she asked another question. "Didn't you date Pansy for a while?"

"Just in school," he confirmed. They were slowly heading back toward the crowd. He said, "The line for food is shorter now, we could probably venture back."

"I am starving. I didn't eat breakfast this morning, because I was so nauseated," she said.

"The thought of the happy couple on their wedding night make you want to vomit, Granger?" he asked.

"That must have been it," she joked. She stopped walking and bent down to pick up a wildflower. He turned to watch her. "This is pretty." It was a simple statement. She walked up to him and put the flower in his buttonhole, to make him a boutonniere.

He looked down at the small purple flower. He said, "Is it as pretty as me?"

"Almost," she said, grinning. She went to remove the flower and he grabbed her wrist. She removed her wrist from his hand so fast that it shocked him.

"Leave it, I like it," he said. He was suddenly embarrassed, and he wasn't sure why. He looked at the ground as they walked back to the buffet table. She took a plate, and then handed him one.

After filling their plates, they found a different table in which to sit. It was a quiet, small table, near the back. He said, "Shall I get us some wine, or perhaps champagne?"

"No, food is enough for me right now, thanks," she said.

He felt awkward around her for the first time this afternoon, and he was not sure why. He thought it had something to do with how quickly she removed her wrist from his hand. He didn't intend to offend her. Was he too rough? Why did she act as if she was upset that he touched her?

He suddenly wasn't very hungry. He pushed his plate back and said, "I just don't get it."

She looked up from her plate and said, "What don't you get?"

"You and Weasel," he said.

"What do you mean? There is no more me and Weasel," she said.

"But there once was. Why, Granger? Good heavens, why?" He shook his head in disbelief. She could not help but laugh again.

"Temporary insanity?" she asked.

"I hope so," he said. He asked, "When did you stop dating?"

"When I found out he was dating Pansy," she said.

What? Juicy gossip and Malfoy was not privy to it. "Explain, please!" he said.

"We dated five years, he never once gave me a ring, and just when I was about ready to give up on him and the relationship, you know, move on or move out, he told me he found another woman. He said he was in love with another, and that he was sorry. That was nine months ago. No big deal, really," she said, although he thought she looked like it was a big deal.

"Did you two live together?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"Then you must have known about year two or three that it wasn't going to work. Five years? Really, Granger, and I thought you were smart," he joked. He was hungry again. He started eating. Now she wasn't hungry. She pushed her plate aside, and rested her head in her hand.

"Malfoy, do you think there's something wrong with me?" she abruptly asked.

"Probably," he said, stealing her piece of roast beef.

"That's what I thought," she said. She excused herself and headed into the house. What did he say? She asked a question, and he was trying to be honest. He finished eating, certain that she would return outside any moment. After ten minutes, he went inside to look for her.

He had never been in the Weasley's house before. He was afraid to touch anything. He looked downstairs for her. He saw a few people, but no Granger. He walked upstairs and knocked on a door he assumed was the bathroom.

She opened the door.

"May I join you?" he joked.

She pulled him inside. He was not expecting that.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes, just looking at something," she said. She went back up to the mirror. She looked at her reflection. He came up and stood behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body next to hers. His breath was on her neck.

He asked, "And at what are we looking?"

"I was trying to see what was wrong with me," she answered.

Was that her problem? "I didn't mean there was anything wrong with you physically when I answered your question. You are actually quite good looking, in a Muggle-born sort of way." Her reflection gave his a nasty glare, until he smiled, to show he was joking.

"What did you mean, then?" she asked.

"Just that you are mourning over something that never would have worked out anyway and you stuck it out all those years with him, even though you must have known it would lead nowhere. That's what's wrong with you. You're afraid. Afraid of being alone, afraid of failure, and afraid of what other people think," he deduced.

She turned and looked at his face. He looked down at her. He was quite tall, she suddenly realized.

"Is that what you really think?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered.

She turned back around toward the mirror again, and looked at her own face. "That's what I think, as well," she admitted.

Hermione turned back around. He was only centimeters from her. They were even touching. In fact, his hand came up to the sleeve of her dress, pulled at it slightly, rolled the fabric between his thumb and index finger, before he rested his hand on her shoulder. He put his other hand on her other shoulder and for the briefest of moments, she thought he was going to kiss her, and that wouldn't be so bad. Instead, he turned her back toward the mirror.

"Do you want to know what I really see, Granger?" he asked. She looked at his eyes in the mirror. "I see a smart woman who has finally wised up. You won't make the same mistake again."

"I hope so, Malfoy," she said. She looked down at the sink.

He stepped away from her and said, "Now get out. I might as well use the facilities while I'm in here."

"Go on, I don't care," she said with a lopsided grin. He stepped up to the commode and started to unzip and she squealed, "I was joking!" She ran out of the room and waited by the bathroom door. She could hear him laughing from inside.

When he came out, she said, "Did you wash your hands? I didn't hear the water running."

"Are you my mum?" he cracked, adding, "And yes, I washed my hands."

She grinned again, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He sat down on the floor in the hallway. She walked up to him and sat down beside him. He pushed his shoulder into hers and said, "So, what game can we play now?"

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	4. Chapter 4

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**Chapter 4 – **

Draco thought Granger had beautiful eyes, a deep chocolate brown. When she was examining herself in the mirror, he had the urge to turn her around and look at them more closely. She probably would have hexed him.

To think, she thought there was something wrong with her. Crazy girl.

He sat down on the floor in the upstairs hall, and to his delight, she sat down next to him. He said, "So, what game can we play now?"

"I don't know, you're good at picking the activities, you decide," she said.

"We could snoop around the house," he said.

"That's not nice," she repeated her words from earlier.

"Granger, Granger, Granger," he said, shaking his head in disapproval, "I hate to keep reminding you of this, but I never once said I was nice. No one has ever said I was nice. Who wants to be nice? Nice is boring. Nice is ordinary. Nice is mundane."

"I want to be nice. Does that mean that I'm boring, ordinary, and mundane?" she asked. He had the urge to touch her for some reason. Right then. In the hallway, as they sat on the floor, side by side. He put his hands in his lap, do thwart off temptation.

Draco said, "You are nice, but on you, it works. It's part of your appeal."

She said, "My appeal? Thanks, and you know you've been very nice to me today."

"It's all an act," he smiled lazily.

She smiled as well and put her hands in her lap. Maybe she wanted to touch him, too, he thought. She said, "It's hot up here. Let's go back outside, where there is at least a breeze."

"No snooping?" he asked, watching her stand.

"No snooping," she repeated. He got up on his knees first and she reached out her hand. Was that for him? He took her hand and let her help him stand.

"How chivalrous of you. You are quite the gentleman," he said.

"I'm a lady," she joked.

"I need definitive proof, before I make my final judgment," he said. He leaned his right shoulder against the wall.

"What kind of proof?" she asked, standing up straight, a bit put out.

"Let me see some female anatomy, and then I might be swayed into believing you're a lady," he said.

"You are a pervert," she said, laughing. She started down the hall.

"Just a quick look," he said.

She turned to look at him as she started down the stairs, "NO!"

He ran in front of her. He said, "Maybe a quick feel? Either breast would do."

She looked shocked, but she had a large grin on her face. She hit his arm and said, "Never!"

"Never?" he asked back.

"Draco Malfoy, you are a sick pervert," she said, trying to step past him. She tripped on the very last step, and fell on her knees. Her hands reached out to catch her as she fell on the landing below. Several of the guests from the wedding were in the kitchen, as well as Harry. Everyone rushed up to her, including Malfoy, who was on the landing.

"Did Malfoy push you?" Harry joked.

Draco reached down to help her up. She accepted his hand. He kept her hand in his and escorted her over to sit at the kitchen table.

"Your other hand is bleeding," Draco said, as he kneeled down beside her chair. He let go of her good hand, and took her injured hand in both of his. "I can heal you," he said.

"Its fine, and I'm a healer, I'll fix it myself," she said. By this time, a small group had gathered around. Hermione felt prying eyes from every corner on her and Draco. He still had her injured hand in his. She leaned close to him and said, "Its fine. I'll go back upstairs to the bathroom, and I'll be right back down." She stood up and went back upstairs.

Draco stood up. Potter was staring right at him, with a menacing look. Harry said, "What's your angle?"

"Excuse me?" Draco asked.

"You and Hermione. What's going on?" Harry asked more specifically.

"Nothing. We're just having a nice time at a wedding, is anything wrong with that? Would you rather that she had stayed at the chapel, had a good cry, and then forgo the reception for a bottle of vodka and some ice cream at home, all by her self?" Draco rattled.

Before Harry could process what Draco said, Hermione came back down and held out her hand. "All better," she said. There was still a small scratch, but the bleeding had stopped. "It might scar," she added.

"Scars give you character," Harry said, with a smile.

"Scars make you a character," Draco said. "Come Granger, we have a game to play," he said, holding out his hand for her. He held out his arm earlier, and she took it. Would she now take his hand? She took it when she was injured, so what would be the harm if she took it now? She looked at his hand, then at Harry. She took Draco's hand and said, "See you in a bit, Harry. We're off to play a game, I guess."

They went out to the front porch. There was an old white wooden swing hanging from the porch, suspended by a rusted chain. The paint was peeled, and some of the spindles from the back were missing. Draco steered them toward the swing, and they both sat at the same time.

"Do you think it will handle our weight?" she asked.

"It will mine, now yours is another thing," he said.

"You aren't nice, are you?" she said, actually amused at what he said.

Ignoring her disparagement on his character, he said, "What to play, what to play…let me think for a moment."

"Oh, heavens," Hermione said, "If you have to think, we'll be here all day."

"You're not that nice, either, I've just decided," he said to her.

"I know a game!" she said excited. She turned in the swing to face him. "We have to pick a fictional character or someone from history, and the other person has to ask ten questions, and we have to remain in character when answering. The other person tries to guess who we are."

He looked at her as if he just tasted something bad. Was she barking mad? That sounded boring. "I don't think so, as you've already concluded about me, I don't like to think too hard, and that game sounds like it requires a lot of brain power. I think we'll play the game of Truth or Dare."

"No, I'm not eleven years old," she said.

"Let's play Dare or Dare."

"No."

"Let's play Truth or Truth."

"No way."

"Let's play spin the bottle."

"With only two people? No, I'm not thirteen either."

"Let's play pin the tale on the weasel," he finally said.

"You go get the weasel, and we can play," she said.

By this time, he was swinging them quite high. She had her feet tucked under her body, since they were of no use. He was the pilot and the navigator. Hermione finally said, "Don't swing us so high, I seriously doubt this swing will hold us."

"Is Granger scared?" he mocked, swinging even higher. The rusted chains squeaked and squealed. Hermione looked up to the ceiling of the porch, to make sure the chains were secure in the eyehooks.

She said, "Please slow down."

"No!" he said. With that said, he jumped forward, landed on the floor of the porch, and the swing bounced all around. He put his hand on one of the chains to stop the movements.

After it stopped, she stood up and said, "You, Malfoy, are an arse!"

She walked back in the house.

In a very bad mood.

Damn it!

Draco opened the screen door. She sat on the couch. There was some redheaded Weasley relative in a comfortable armchair in the corner of the living room, fast asleep. Draco sat beside her on the couch.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked, not really concerned, because if she was, he was sure it would be short lived. He could just 'up' the charm a bit more, and all would be forgiven.

"No, I'm not really angry," she said. That surprised him. He might still 'up' the charm, just for the hell of it. Just because he wanted to, and just because she might want him to.

"Good," he said. He got up and left the room.

She was going to call out to him, saying, 'I said I wasn't angry,' but he had already gone through the kitchen, and out the back door.

How strange.

He stepped back in and said, "Come on, Granger." He held out his hand again.

"Where are we going?" she asked, taking his hand as she stood up. In his other hand, he held up a bottle of wine, unopened, and two wine glasses. "Are we going to get sloshed?" she quizzed.

"If I'm lucky," he smiled.

"Where to?" she asked.

"The roof, but of course," he said to her.

She shook her head slightly and said, "I don't think so. I hate heights."

"Too bad," he said. He still had her hand. He disapparated with her to the roof. She had no choice but to follow. Maybe she would be scared and have to hold on to him for dear life.

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	5. Chapter 5

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**Chapter 5 – **

What was she thinking?

Here she was, on the rooftop of the Burrow, with Draco Malfoy, and it was a very high roof. They were actually just on the roof of the front porch. That was still too high, in her opinion.

"Why are we here?" Hermione asked.

"Adventure," he answered.

"What?" she didn't understand. How high were they?

"You need some adventure in your life, Granger," he said.

"I have had enough adventure in my life to last me a life, thanks," she told him. Would a person break their leg from this height?

"But, your life has gotten into a rut lately, am I right?" He egged her on, to see if he could get a rise out of her.

"No," she said. Seriously, a fall from this high would as least hurt, wouldn't it? She looked all around, clutching his arm the entire time. It was starting to cause him pain.

"You really are scared of heights, aren't you?" he asked.

She wasn't even paying attention to him. Instead, she was looking toward a window. "Do you want to go snooping now?" she asked. "That's the twins' old room, right there; I bet it would be a good place to start."

Draco said, "In other words, you want to leave the roof, right?"

"Yes, but not in other words, in plain words, I want to leave the roof," she said.

He removed her hand from his arm and sat down.

"What are you doing?" she asked, as she now held onto his shoulder.

"Sitting. You should try it sometime. If you remain standing, you might fall and break your leg," he answered.

"AH HA!" she shouted, "that is just what I was thinking." She looked around again. "Come inside with me," she begged. Her hand went from his shoulder to the top of his head and held onto his hair. It was actually a bit painful.

"No, sit down here with me." He patted the roof.

She looked down, and instead of sitting, she disapparated away. He wasn't expecting that. He disapparated as well. He went back in the house, to look for her. He couldn't find her. He walked back outside. Bloody hell, the happy couple was cutting their cake. He went back to the front yard. He found her sitting under a tree. He walked over to join her, and sat opposite her on the grass.

"You ruined my plan," he said.

"What plan, might I ask," she inquired.

"My plan to get you drunk on top of a roof, and then push you off, causing you bodily injury," he said.

"What the hell kind of plan was that?" she asked, perturbed.

"Isn't that what you thought?" he asked.

"No, I just thought I was afraid of heights. Damn, Malfoy, not everything is about you," she said, with a slight smile. She crossed her legs and looked over toward a field, to the left of the house. He looked over toward the same field. Before he could ask her what she was thinking, she said, "That's the field where the Weasleys always played Quidditch."

"Did you ever play?" he inquired.

"Were you just up on the roof with me? Of course I didn't play, afraid of heights, remember," she reminded.

He poured her a glass of wine, and she gladly accepted. He poured himself a glass, and rested the bottle against her leg. He said, "Cheers, Granger," and he clinked his glass to hers.

"Let's play your game, Malfoy," she said, suddenly more at ease. He thought that maybe the roof was a bad idea after all. She's much more pleasant on the ground.

"Okay, in this game, you have to answer the opposite of the truth, in one word answers. Each person gets to ask five questions, and I will start," he said.

"How is that a game?" she asked.

"It's a better game than the one you suggested earlier," he protested.

"Okay, but no personal questions," she said.

"Then where's the fun?" he asked.

"No sex question, then," she revised.

"Why not? We are friends now, aren't we? Don't you talk about sex with your friends?" Draco asked.

"Not really. My best friends are Harry and Ron, well, Ron was at one time, so we don't talk about sex that much," she said.

"You have at least had sex, though, right?" he asked, smirking.

She gave him a funny look and said, "You mean with Harry and Ron?"

"No, I mean, in general," he amended, adding, "I know you've probably had sex with Ron, and I can block that out of my mind, but I hope to goodness you've never had sex with Potter. That would make me utterly sick."

"See, this is why I don't want sex questions," she said, "for your health is important to me." She held out her glass for more wine and he obliged.

"Does that mean you have had sex with Potter?" he asked, seriously.

"I will not talk about sex with you, new found friend or not!" she vowed with a laugh.

Draco shrugged and said, "Do you want to play my game or not?" She motioned for him to continue as she took another drink. He asked, "Do you still love Weasley, and remember, answer the opposite."

"Yes," she said, unabashed.

"Have you ever shagged Potter?"

"That's a sex, question," she reminded, but then she said, "Yes," and she giggled.

"Do you want to get married within the next five years?"

"No," she said, solemnly.

"Do you have knickers on today?"

She hit his arm, as she did earlier, and said, "Draco."

"Is that the opposite?" he asked.

"Fine," she said, "No."

"Damn. Have you ever had a crush on me?"

She was quiet for a moment, and took one more drink, to delay answering. She really had never had a crush on Draco. She thought he was handsome, of course, but she seriously despised him in school. After school, she never gave him much thought. However, she thought she might have a slight crush on him now, even though he apparently just thought they were friends. However, he didn't ask, 'do you have a crush on me?' he asked, 'have you _ever_ had a crush on me', but then again, those were just semantics.

"Granger, did you fall into a coma?" he asked, "Answer please."

She decided to answer. "No," she finally said. He could come to his own conclusions. He would probably think it was when she was younger, not now. He was all out of questions, so he could not ask her to elaborate, anyway.

He poured her some more wine, and came to sit beside her, instead of opposite. He put his back next to the tree, next to hers, as well. He said, "Your turn."

She thought for a moment, and said, "Have you ever been in love?"

"Yes," he said.

"Do you have a girlfriend, now?"

"Yes."

"Do you bleach your hair?" she laughed.

"YES," he said, with a brittle tone. She thought that one might insult him.

"Did you know how much it hurt me in school when you were cruel to me and called me names like Mudblood, and bucktooth beaver," she asked, looking at the ground.

He didn't want to answer that one. However, fair was fair. She answered his. He said, "No." Of course, he knew it hurt her. He was a cruel bully back then. He did it to be mean.

She drank the rest of her wine. He started to pour her some more, but she shook her head no. She said, "My last question, do you think I'm pretty?"

He was looking right at her face. The sun was high in the sky, and it was breaking through the tree branches, casting light and shadow across her features. Her skin was clear, and she had a natural blush to her cheeks. Her lips were round and red, and plump and wet. Her figure was perfect, and she had the most adorable freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were warm and inviting. He took another drink, threw the glass in the yard, and said, "Yes."

She frowned. He wondered why she frowned.

"I see," she said. She stood up. "I'm going to go tell Harry goodbye. It was a nice afternoon, Draco. Thanks a lot for being nice to me, I needed a friend today." She spoke in an even tone. She started to walk away. He stood up and caught her arm.

"I thought we were having a good laugh this afternoon. Why are you leaving?" He honestly did not even think about what he had just said. He was supposed to answer the opposite, but all he could think was that she was indeed very pretty, so he answered yes.

"It was fun, and thank you, but I want to go home now." She looked down at his hand, wrapped around her forearm. He looked down too, and then he let her go.

"Bye, Granger," he said, still confused.

"Bye, Malfoy," she answered, waving her hand goodbye. She walked through the house.

He watched her enter the front door, when the realization of what he said under the tree hit him. He was supposed to answer the opposite, but instead, he answered truthfully. She thought that he thought she was not pretty. He ran through the house, out the back door. Just then, the bride was getting ready to throw her bouquet. He saw Granger hiding behind the side of the house, watching. He walked up to her, took her arm, and walked her farther away from the house.

"I need to clarify something," he said.

Suddenly, the voice of Ginny could be heard. She said, "Wait! Don't throw it yet, we have to find Hermione!"

"Damn, Draco, I don't want them to find me. I don't want to stand with all the other desperate spinsters, trying to catch a bouquet, while everyone feels sorry for me because I wasn't good enough for the groom," she complained.

"You're twenty-five years old. How is that a spinster?" he asked, "And you're too good for the groom." Before she could comment on what he said, she took his hand and ran toward a small, wooden shed. She opened the door and pulled him in, and then pulled the door up tight.

"Where are we? Is this their outhouse?" he said, more to himself. It was dark in there.

"A broom shed," she said quietly.

"I think she came around the side of the house," Ginny said, her voice sounding closer. Draco started to say something to Hermione, but she put her hand over his mouth. He rather liked that. Her hand on his mouth, and her body so close to his, he felt a rush of something that was definitely more than friendship.

"Maybe she went home after all," Ginny shouted. Draco removed Hermione's hand from his mouth, but kept it in his own, as he leaned forward and peeked out the door.

"She went back around the back," he said, closing the door again.

"Good," Hermione answered. "I'll just stay in here for a moment longer, and then go find Harry to say goodbye, but you don't have to wait with me."

"I wanted to clarify something from earlier," he said, squeezing her hand slightly.

"What?"

"I don't think you're pretty," he said quickly. Even in the dark, he thought he could see her frown. He mentally slapped himself and said, "Shite, that's wrong, too. I meant to say, well, just ask me the bloody question again."

"What question?" she asked him. She knew 'what' question, but she was no longer in the mood for games. "Listen, Malfoy, that's fine. We're friends, now; at least I would like to think we are, so it's not that big of a deal. You can be honest with me." As she was rambling on, he dropped her hand and put his over her mouth, just as she had done to him earlier.

"Ask me again, dammit," he said.

He removed his hand. She said, "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Now, remember, this time, I really am answering opposite. Okay, you know that, right?" She nodded. He said, "No. The answer is no. Opposite, remember."

She gave him a little smile, and looked down at her feet in embarrassment. She looked back up in his eyes, just as Harry opened the door to the shed. Harry asked, "What the hell are you two doing in there?"

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	6. Chapter 6

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**Chapter 6 – **

Draco Malfoy thought Hermione Granger was pretty. Now wasn't that a kick in the pants. When did that happen? What was she supposed to say or do now? She decided not to say a word, instead, she smiled and looked down at her feet. When she looked back up in his eyes, she was surprised that he was smiling. She didn't know what to make of a happy, smiling, Malfoy. This was brand new to her.

She was about to say that she thought he was pretty too, as stupid as that may have sounded, when someone opened the door to the shed.

"What the hell are you two doing in there?" Harry Potter asked.

Harry always had terrible timing. "I was hiding so I wouldn't have to pretend I wanted to catch the bouquet. I'm not sure why Malfoy is in here," Hermione lied. "Why are you in here, Malfoy?"

Oh, she was an evil little thing, wasn't she? Draco decided to call her out, so he said, "I was minding my own business, about to go join the other chaps to catch the garter, when you pulled me in here with you," he smirked. He turned to Harry and said, "I can only assume the little tart wanted to snog."

Hermione looked indignant, but Harry knew the truth. He said, "Well, Malfoy, you're in luck, for the 'chaps' haven't been gathered to catch the garter yet. Come on out with me and maybe you'll get lucky." He grabbed Malfoy's sleeve and dragged him out of the shed.

Hermione laughed and he looked back at her and said, "Help me."

She said, "You wouldn't want me to help, I'm nothing by a tramp, a trollop, a common scarlet woman who pulls men into sheds to snog them."

"Granger!" he begged. "I only said you were a tart!" he reminded her with a strangled voice."

She followed the men to the backyard. Harry yelled, "Here's Malfoy, gents, let's get this over with."

Ron made a right spectacle of himself, taking off Pansy's garter with his teeth. Hermione blanched. If he had done that to her, she would have been so embarrassed that she would have hexed him. Pansy didn't seem to mind one bit. Stupid slag.

Draco stood near the back, and turned to look at Hermione once more. She shrugged. She then got a wonderful idea. As soon as Ron let the garter go over his shoulder, she took out her wand, said a little silent spell, and it landed right in Malfoy's hand. He was more surprised than the rest of the men. He looked quickly at her and mouthed the words, 'you did that!' She laughed again and doubled over with mirth.

Everyone started to yell for Malfoy to put the garter on the witch who caught the bouquet. If Hermione had known that was going to happen, she wouldn't have aimed the garter toward Malfoy, for a beautiful black haired cousin of Pansy's, apparently the only non-pug face female in her family, was the recipient of the bouquet, and would have to have Malfoy's hands travel up her leg to place the garter under her skirt.

Draco looked to be enjoying himself as he did the task. Hermione moved back around the same side of the house she had just come. No harm, no foul. He was a free man. It wasn't as if he was her date or anything, even though in a way she felt as if he was. They weren't even friends before today, and they would probably not be friends afterwards. He could stick his paws over all the bare legs he wanted. She felt down right glum again.

She took off over a meadow, not even knowing where it headed. She had enough of brides, grooms, garters and bouquets, to last her a lifetime.

She found a field of wildflowers, and sat down on the ground. The flowers were higher than she, so no one could find her. She lay back on her back, with her arms under her head. She looked up at the white clouds passing by. It really was the perfect day for a wedding. The type of day she dreamed about for her wedding. It was June, the perfect wedding month. The sky was a brilliant blue. The clouds were white and puffy, and few. The temperature perfect, the wind minimal. Merlin, how did Ron and Pansy get so lucky? It would probably rain, snow, sleet and hail on Hermione's wedding day.

She closed her eyes. She heard a voice calling her name. She strained to listen, because depending on who it was, she might call back to them, or she might not. "GRANGER?"

It was Draco. She sat back up. He called once more. She finally said, "Over here!" She waved her hand in the air, so he could see.

He plopped down on the ground beside her. Hermione had a white daisy in her hand. He took it from her and played with it a moment. Then he leaned over and put it in her hair, behind her ear. It was one of the most romantic things anyone had ever done, and her heart skipped a beat.

She looked at him and said, "Did you and the tramp have a nice time with the garter belt."

"Yes, it was rather pleasant," he said, lying back on the ground.

She remained seated. She picked another small flower and twirled it in her hand. She felt his fingers lightly travel down her back, and then pull away. She turned to look at him. "Come here," he said.

Was he daft? She said, "I _am_ here, what do you want, anyway?"

"Come down here with me, and let's see what animals we can make out of the clouds," he said. That wasn't at all what he wanted to say. When he first reached out to touch her back, the feel of her silky dress grazed his fingertips, and he wanted to tell her to come to him so that he could kiss her. However, since this was a new relationship, based more on friendship than anything else, that wouldn't have been prudent.

She lay down beside him. Their shoulders were the only things that touched. He pointed up at a cloud and said, "I swear, that cloud up there looks like Professor Snape's profile."

Hermione giggled so hard that her knees drew up to her stomach. She playfully touched his left wrist with her right hand and said, "You won't believe this, but I honestly was going to say that right before you did."

"I'm psychic, I guess." He laughed.

She turned to her side. "If you're psychic, tell me what I'm thinking right now."

He turned to his side and looked deeply in her eyes. He reached over and took the flower from her ear, and held it in his hand. He really just wanted an excuse to touch her, but that was the next best thing. He said, "You're thinking that this is a perfect day for a wedding, and what a shame that it was wasted on those pathetic dolts."

Hermione sat up, abruptly and said, "I really was thinking that, weird, huh?"

He sat up as well and said, "Not weird, I was thinking the same thing."

She drew her knees up to her chest and tilted her head. She said, "So, do you want to get married someday. I think I asked you that earlier today, but I don't recall what you said."

"Yeah, I can see me getting married, someday. A long time from now," he said truthfully. "Why do you want to get married so badly, Granger? Is it just because all those around you are getting married, or do you have a need to start a family, what?"

She looked down at the ground and rocked back and forth, slightly. "I don't know, Malfoy. I hope I'm a big enough person that it's not jealousy. I mean, I do want children, more than one, and a man who loves and adores me. It doesn't have to happen tomorrow, but I would like to think I have a prospect of it happening before I die."

"I'm sure it will. You're still young. You have time," he said, trying to assure her.

"Sure, Malfoy," she said, not convinced. She lay back down, and so did he. She pointed at another cloud and said, "That one looks like Ron's private parts."

He made a terrible face and she looked over and laughed at him. "It isn't true to size, is it?" he asked.

Hermione laughed so hard at that comment that she snorted. Draco leaned over her, supported his head with his hand, and said, "I always liked a woman who really laughs."

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes, let's see if I can make you snort again," he said. His hand came down on her stomach, and he tickled her ribs. She tried to hit his hand away, laughing (and snorting).

She managed to squirm away from him and said, "No fair. I wasn't prepared." She was out of breath. She sat up.

He got up on his knees, walked over to her, (while still on his knees) and said, "You have all kinds of weeds in your hair. Now Potter really will think we were out here snogging."

"Oh, screw Potter," Hermione said. That made Draco laugh.

"That's what I think!" he said.

She said, "We should get back."

"Why?" he asked.

"I don't know," she confessed. Actually, she could spend all day with him, and never tire of it. This day had been like the best date she had **never** had. She stood up and he followed. She started to comb out her hair with her fingers. She said, "I do have weeds in my hair," holding up one to Draco as proof.

"First rice, now weeds," he said, proposing, "Let me help."

His right hand came up to her hair, and he combed his fingers through it. It was so soft. He had thought so earlier, and now, he knew it. Hermione watched him intently. His eyes were on her hair. When he finished he dropped his hand and looked at her. He saw how intently she was staring at him. He felt a pull toward her, so he took a step closer. Her mouth was parted slightly. Her eyes, wide and clear. His eyes flickered with something. She wasn't sure what it was. She started to say something inane like 'we should get back', but then she remembered she already had said that earlier.

Instead, she took another step toward him. They were close enough to kiss, she thought. Maybe they should kiss. If he didn't kiss her in five seconds, she would pluck up the courage, and kiss him. They remained motionless, without words, merely staring at each other. She started the count down, five, four, three, two, one…nothing happened.

He didn't kiss her. Their close proximity to each other was borderline awkward now. Why didn't she just go ahead and kiss him. She put her hand up to his cheek. His skin was warm. It was a warm day, after all. She let her hand linger to his neck. He reached up and took her hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze, before laying it on his chest. He kept his hand on top of hers, while his other hand drew a soft line down her cheek. It ended cupping her face.

He said, "What are you thinking?" His hand was now on her neck. He could feel her pulse. Pump, Pump, Pump. Her pulse was rapid. He was sure his was, too.

"What are you thinking about, Malfoy?" she asked back. Her throat was so dry, she didn't know how she managed to speak.

"I'm thinking that I like being friends with you," he said.

That wasn't what she wanted to hear. She said, "Friends?"

"Don't you want to be my friend, Hermione?" he asked steadily. She thought her name sounded foreign coming out of his mouth.

Their postures had not changed. His hands were still in the same position, one over her hand, resting over his heart, his other hand now on the back of her head, playing with her hair. Her other hand went up to his jaw line, and traced a line down to his chin. She plucked up the courage she wished she had earlier, and traced the same finger around his mouth. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard before answering.

"Yes," she said to answer his question right before his mouth came crashing down on hers. It happened so fast, but anticipated for so long, that she was almost thrown for a loop. Her knees bent, unable to support her frame. He kissed her, pulled back, looked at her, growled, (growled?) and went in to kiss her again. He pressed his mouth hard against hers, and she hardly had time to respond.

Her head moved slightly to the side, as his kiss became gentler. It was still a closed mouth kiss, but one of the best kisses she had ever had in her life. He finally removed his lips from hers. Both his arms were now around her waist. She felt her heart beating out of her chest. She would have collapsed if he hadn't been holding her up.

"So, friends, Granger?" he asked.

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	7. Chapter 7

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**Chapter 7 - **

Draco's hands were holding her close. They stood together forever. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn't want to scare her away. At one point, he even thought she was going to kiss him. She finally reached up and traced his lips with her index finger. Then she said the word, "Yes."

Did he ask a question?

He crashed his lips down to hers. She stumbled slightly, so he held her even tighter, one hand on the back of her head, one holding hers on his chest. She moved her head to the side, and gained the strength in her legs that she had temporarily lost. He started to kiss her gingerly. He would not probe this time, but instead, he would keep the first kiss simple, chaste. He put both his hands around her waist. Draco decided to ask, "So, friends, Granger?"

Still holding her tight, both her hands went to his chest. "Is that what you want us to be?" she asked.

'NO, NO, NO,' he thought. What should he say? He finally said, "I would like to start with that."

Her next movement caught him by surprise. She leaned into his body and put her head on his shoulder. Her hands went around his middle. With her face pressed against his chest, she said, "Sure, we can be friends."

He put his hand under her chin to force her to look at him. Before he could ascertain what she meant, she smiled and stepped back from him. He should not have removed his arms from around her. He should have kept her captive a while longer.

She said, "Let's go back and have some cake. I'm feeling rather tired. Maybe some sugar will wake me up."

"If that's what you want," he said, slightly confused.

He thought he heard her say, "Does it matter what I want," as she walked in front of him, back toward the Burrow.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, looking back at him with another plastic smile.

He ran to catch up to her and said, "Have I offended you?"

"No, not at all," she said.

They walked back to the back garden. The reception was still in full swing. Most of the tables had been pushed back to make room for a makeshift dance floor. Hermione went to get a piece of cake. She picked up two plates and said, "I have your piece too, Malfoy, so would you mind getting me some coffee, and I'll carry our cake over to a table."

He was still slightly confused. She was acting strange, distant, but she must still want to spend the rest of the afternoon with him, but apparently only as 'friends'. He must have read her wrong. Of course, he did ask her if she wanted to be friends, but he was just being coy. Playful. Maybe she took him seriously. He would find out.

He brought two coffees over to where she sat. He sat beside her and she leaned over and said, "Look at the happy couple."

He did as requested. They were on the dance floor. They were not dancing, however. They were more or less molesting each other. It was almost indecent. Draco made a funny face, involuntarily, and Hermione laughed. He turned to her and stared. She was already eating her cake. He decided to eat his as well. He was shocked when she threw down her fork and said, "Seriously! He's eating her face off right there on the dance floor! How embarrassing."

Draco said, "Just stop looking!"

She pointed toward the newlyweds and said, "How can you avoid that?"

He took her pointed index finger in his hand and put her arm down.

"Take a deep breath, Granger. Remember, you said you didn't love him anymore. Seeing them like that, while disgusting, yes, shouldn't really upset you," Draco concluded. He took another bite of his cake.

She placed her hands in her lap, and despite what Draco had said, she continued to stare at Pansy and Ron. Occasionally, she would let out little phrases, like, "yuck," and "get a room."

Finally, to shut her up Draco did the only thing he could do, right there in the backyard of the Burrow, surrounded by all the Weasleys and her friends. Yes, Draco Malfoy took Hermione Granger face in his hand, turned her to look at him, and then he did it! He smashed the rest of his piece of cake right in her face.

To say that she was shocked would be an understatement. She was shocked, livid, enraged and fuming. Her mouth hung open, and a small piece of frosting, which was dangling from her nose, fell to the table. He was slightly afraid, for she had a look in her eyes that told him she was ready to kill.

She took her napkin and started to wipe her face, and said, "Why the hell did you do that?"

"Be thankful that's all I did," he said back, "I had to shut you up somehow, and it was between this and kissing you."

As she continued to wipe the cake off her cheek, she said, "I would have preferred the kiss."

He smiled and said, "Duly noted, and I won't hesitate to put that plan into action the next time you are raging out of control."

She missed some icing on her jaw. He took his finger and swiped it down her face, and then put the icing finger in his mouth. "Yum, the icing even taste better on you than it does on the cake."

She said, "I wonder how it would taste on you?" She took her piece of cake off the place, placed it in her right hand, and held it aloft.

"Put the cake down, Granger, we both know you don't have the balls," he said lazily, turning his gaze away from her and taking a drink of coffee. He felt the piece of cake hit the side of his face.

He turned and looked at her, stunned, as she was sitting beside him laughing! At him! He took his napkin, wiped his face and said, "You will pay for that, Granger."

Harry Potter and Ginny decided at that moment to join them. Harry put their cake down on the table and said, "Hermione, I have two more pieces here if you need to get his other side."

She turned and said, "I might take you up on that."

As Harry was setting the cake on the table, Draco reached over and grabbed a piece, right in his hand. Hermione's eyes widened, and she said, "Be reasonable, Malfoy. You did it to me first. We are not children, and this is a wedding. We must act dignified."

"I will put this on your face with the utmost decorum and respectability, I promise you that, Granger," he said, with false manners.

Hermione stood up and put her hands in front of her in a defensive mode. Harry said, "Well, hell, now I have to get another piece of cake," as he stood up.

Ginny said, "Get two," and she stood and handed Hermione her piece. She looked at Draco and said, "Now it's a fair fight, for you're both armed and dangerous."

Draco said, "Are you really going to put that cake on me, Granger? I don't think you're fast enough to catch me!" and he threw his piece and it landed right on her chest, icing side facing her skin. He looked slightly amazed that he hit his target. He shouted, "Goodbye!" and he ran across the garden, toward an open field.

"Go get him, Hermione!" Ginny shouted. Soon, many people were watching, egging Hermione on, urging her to 'get Malfoy' as well.

She kicked off her shoes, and saw him from the distance turn around and stick out his tongue. She said, loudly, "Should we really be doing this? We are mature adults, and we're making a worse display, and acting with shoddier comportment, than the couple whom we were just referring."

Ginny leaned toward a returning Harry and said, "I think she's referring to the newlyweds, out on the dancing floor making a scene."

Harry stood up and gave her another piece of cake, plopping it in her other hand, as Malfoy was still watching on from a short distance. "Two pieces, Hermione, in case you miss with the first one. Now, go get him, Granger! Show him what you're made of and cake that snake!" Harry goaded.

Draco shouted, "I know what she's made of Potter. She was a Gryffindor, after all. All talk no action." He was having fun taunting her. Soon, George Wealsey was behind her and he stuffed a third piece of sticky confection in her hand. Seamus stood beside her and said, "Shall I get you a glass of punch to throw in his face, as well?"

"No, this will do for now," she said. She started walking toward Draco, approaching him slowly. He openly laughed at her.

"You are such a girly Gryffindor, Granger," he continued to snidely remark. "Of course, most Gryffindors were girly." He knew _she knew_ he was just joking, but he also was aware that he was in the backyard with a bunch of former Gryffindors, and just a few former Slytherins, so he would keep his 'trash talk' to a minimum.

She eyed him carefully, still slowly approaching. He stopped moving, and planted his world-renowned smirk proudly on his face. His hands went to his hips and he said, "Come on, little girl, show me what you've got."

With cake still slathered on her chest, she started a full out sprint. He was surprised at first she could move that fast, hence the reason he didn't run right away, and so he was hit with the first piece of cake as it left her right hand. It barely missed him, with just a small bit of icing grazing his sleeve.

He turned to run and she followed. The crowd was shouting for her, and she ran faster than she had ever run in her life. He twisted around trees, and bushes, taunting her again.

"You couldn't hit the side of a barn standing still, Granger," he said, behind a tree. She threw the second piece. It whizzed by his head, a little too close for comfort.

He ran toward another tree, and took cover. She followed. He started to circle the tree, and she was right behind him. He said, "Only one more piece, Granger. Make it good."

She looked so determined. He liked that look on her. The crowd was now standing, as if forming a sideline, and they continued to shout encouraging words to her. She said, in a whisper, "Let me hit you with this last piece, so it can all be over, otherwise, they'll keep furnishing me with cake, and I'll have to continue to run after you."

"You want me to 'let you' hit me? I think not, my dear," Draco drawled, "for I have a reputation to uphold."

"Name your price," she grinned.

"You don't have enough," he said back.

"There's nothing you want from me?" she asked, not even realizing the implications of her words.

He got an almost evil look on his face and said, "Oh, there's one thing, Hermione, but you would never agree."

They both were moving back and forth, the piece of cake high above her head, ready to be launched. She said, "You don't know that, Malfoy. I might like what you propose. Tell me."

He had a predatory look on his face suddenly, and took three steps closer to her, but before he could tell her his proposition, she released the piece of cake from her hand, and with more strength than he thought, she possessed, it hurled straight toward him, and landed on his right shoulder. The crowd cheered.

"Oh, you will pay now!" He started toward her and she actually squeaked. She ran away and he chased her, not as fast as he could, toward on open field. He wanted to chase her far enough away from prying eyes, so he could truly make her pay.

She climbed over a wooden fence, which he was easily able to jump. Once they were far enough away from the wedding reception, he urged his legs faster, and he caught her in no time. He grabbed her arm, and swung her around. He put both arms around her body and brought her to the ground, cognitive of putting the weight of their fall on him. Another benefit of taking the weight of their fall was that she ended up on top of him.

He held her on top of his body. They were both out of breath. She pushed against him with her arms. He soon turned her over, so he was now on top, and said, "Say uncle."

"What?" she said breathing hard.

His face was close to hers and the weight of his body on top of hers sent little chills and fire throughout her nervous system.

"I said, say uncle, give up, you know?" he said.

"Never!" she said, issuing a challenge, and smiling widely, moving slightly under him, in a feeble attempt to get away.

His mouth was centimeters from hers. "Say uncle, or face the consequences."

"No," she said softly.

He could not help himself, he leaned toward her, his face close to her face, and he took a bite of cake from the front of her chest. This amazed her. It was so intimate, and so incredibly sensual and sexual. She said, "What are you doing?"

"Say uncle," he said again, in a husky whisper. This time he licked her collarbone, coming back to face her with icing on his mouth. He licked his lips.

"Draco, let me up, someone might see," she said back in a whisper.

"They're all far away, now, say uncle," he repeated. This time he took a finger, and moved it from the hollow of her throat, to the opening of the collar of her dress. He held the icing covered finger over her face and then put it to her mouth. He smeared icing on her lips, and then dipped his head and licked the icing off her mouth. He repeated this action one more time. He said, "Say uncle, or I continue."

The look she gave him he could not identify. She said, "Get off me, Malfoy, I don't want to play anymore."

"Who said I was still playing," he said breathlessly.

"Friends don't act like this with each other," she reminded.

"Maybe I just decided I don't want to be your friend," he said, with one eyebrow raised.

She asked, "You don't?" She almost looked crestfallen.

He placed the icing covered finger back to her lips. He was about to smear more icing on them, when to his amazement, she put _his_ finger in her mouth, and licked the icing clean. He was more turned on than he had ever been in his life.

He smirked, "Friends don't do that, either, Granger."

"We just decided we aren't friends, I thought," she said and then she smiled.

He smiled back. She suddenly thought, 'oh no, what now?'

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	8. Chapter 8

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**Chapter 8 - **

All Hermione could think was, what the bloody hell was going on? Draco Malfoy and she started out the day as acquaintances, who once went to school together, slowly became friends, almost like 'buddies', and then became confidants, and then outright friends, and now what? What were they now?

Without warning, she pushed against his chest and said, "Get off."

"No," he said. What was wrong with her?

"Please, Draco, get off me," she said, finally pushing him off. He rolled over on his back, with his arms out to his side. She rolled over and stood up. He propped himself up on his elbow, and as she tried to walk away, he grabbed her foot.

"Let go," she pleaded.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked.

"Let go of my foot," she said again, moving her foot back and forth in his hand. He kept his hand on her foot, sat upright, and put his other hand on her calf.

"Seriously, let me go!" She was becoming angry.

"What's wrong with you? All of the sudden you have a wand up your bum," Draco retorted. He let her go and stood up.

She started to straighten out her clothing. She said, "It's hopeless."

"What is?" He thought she meant 'them'.

"My dress. It is filthy, it has icing on it, and grass stains. I don't even know if magic will remove these stains," she said.

"Is that what this is about? I didn't figure you were so shallow. Who cares if your dress has stains on it? Who are you trying to impress?" he asked, with an air of arrogance.

She wanted to say, 'you', but instead she said, "No one. I can't help it if I'm not all full of myself like you are."

"Are we at the fighting stage of our relationship already?" Draco asked.

Hermione started to walk back to the reception. She said, "We don't have a relationship, do we?"

"I guess not," he said sincerely. He walked along beside her.

She said, "I'm going to see if Ginny has something here that I can borrow, for I don't want to wear this dress any longer."

"Why not just go on home, then?" he said, perturbed.

Did he want her to go home? "I guess I could do that." She stopped walking. He jumped back over the fence. He kept walking toward the house. She had stopped and was propped against the railings of the fence. He turned back around and she had her back to him, leaning against the fence. He walked back up to her. He leaned against the fence, next to her, and faced the other direction. He turned to look at her.

"What has you down all of the sudden? Visions of the wedding night?" he asked.

She actually smiled. She turned to look at him as well. She said, "We kissed today."

"Really, I didn't know that," he said sarcastically.

"Smart arse," she smiled.

"Do you regret the kiss?" he asked.

"Not at all, do you?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, even more sarcastically. He smiled and bumped his shoulder into hers. "You are so gullible, Granger. I don't regret it."

"Would we have kissed again just now, in the field?" she asked.

"I was hoping so," he said truthfully.

"So, do you like me or something?" she asked.

"Are we children?" He grinned. "Do we 'like' each other?"

"Well, okay, let me rephrase this," she restated her sentence, to pacify him as she climbed the fence so that she was facing the same direction as him. She sat on the top railing, her leg touching his arm, where he leaned against the fence. She said, "Do you see us seeing each other after this afternoon?"

"Perhaps," he said coyly, leaning down and picking up a long blade of grass.

"Do you see us dating, or something?" she asked, shyly.

He pushed himself away from the fence, and came to stand in front of her. He took the blade of grass and swiped it slowly down her cheek. He brushed it against her neck, to her collarbone, ending it at her chest, which was still covered in cake. He said, "I see us dating, and I definitely see the 'or something'." He threw the piece of grass down and put his hands on her knees. He leaned closer to her, and when he was almost nose to nose with her, he asked, "Does that answer your question?"

Biting her bottom lip, she looked up to the sky and then laughed a true laugh. She said, "No one will ever believe this! We are such an unlikely pair, don't you think?"

"I think we go together like jam and bread," he said tritely.

"I'm the jam, because I'm sweet," she said.

He leaned closer and put his nose up to her neck. He sniffed. He looked back in her eyes and said, "The cake makes you smell sweet, but that's about as sweet as I would describe you."

"And you're the bread," she continued, ignoring what he said, "Because you're white and plain."

"White and plain?" he asked, tightening his hold on her knees. He tickled the back of her knees and her hands went to his shoulders, to keep her from falling as she laughed.

"Stop!" she said, wiggling on the slender fence railing. She almost fell backwards and he put one arm behind her back, to steady her. He moved his hands to her waist, and lifted her off the fence.

"Let's get back to the little reception, before they send out a search party," he said, as he stood her on the ground in front of him. She reached for his hand and he gladly replied by putting his hand in hers. As they walked back toward the house, he said, "We're almost back, time to stop holding hands."

"Why?" she inquired, sincerely.

"Oh, no reason, I was just making a comment," he said, keeping her hand in his. The truth was, as they approached the party, which was in full swing, very few people even noticed their clasped hands. Most of the guests were on the dance floor. He said, "Care to dance?"

"I'm not the best dancer, but sure, if you don't mind me stepping on your toes. Also, I hope you don't mind the state of my dress," she said.

"You could remove it, if it bothers you that much," he said, smiling.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" she asked.

"Very much," he beamed back.

She excused herself and went to the table where she left her purse. She took her wand and cleaned off the remaining cake. He walked up behind her and said, "Will you clean my shirt as well, Malfoys don't usually walk around with cake all over them."

"Really? I think I remember your father with cake on his robes a few times," she joked.

She took her wand and cleaned him as well. She returned her wand to her purse and said, "Dance with me, Malfoy?"

"I thought you would never ask," he said back.

They walked back to the middle of the dance floor and started to dance, and she remarked, "Who knew you could be so charming?"

"Who knew you could be so much fun," he countered.

"You've had fun today?" she asked, bringing her arms up to his neck. She entwined her fingers behind his neck. He clasped his hands behind her back, resting them on the swell above her behind.

"I've had a great time, so far. I hope you have, as well," he admitted.

"What made you wait for me at the chapel?" she asked.

"I wasn't waiting for you. You have an inflated ego," he said lightly.

"Oh, sorry. Well, why were you still there?" she asked.

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"No, I'm just thankful," she said, a blush rising to her cheeks. He pulled her closer. She brought her hands from around his neck and laced them under his, resting them around his waist. Her face was resting on his shoulder.

"Granger?" he asked.

She turned her face back up to his. "Yes?" she asked back.

"I was waiting for you at the chapel, truthfully, and I really don't know why, but I'm thankful as well," he admitted. He stared deeply in her eyes. She smiled at him and placed her face back against his shoulder, content in the moment, content in his arms, content with the change of their relationship, still undefined.

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	9. Chapter 9

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**Chapter 9 – **

He admitted to waiting for her at the chapel. He hadn't planned to tell her that. He hadn't planned any of this. Maybe that's why it felt so right, so good, because it was all spontaneous.

Here he had wanted nothing more today than to see her face, make her smile, and walk away from this with a new friend, with hope for a future encounter, maybe lunch or dinner next week. Now, he felt they had already moved through all those awkward stages in the beginning of a relationship. For one thing, they already knew each other. That made things a lot easier. Two, they already found each other attractive, apparently. Three, the 'tread carefully' part of early dating, saying the right thing, false modesty, white lies, were a moot point with them. Four, and most importantly, the flirting part of an early relationship were already in full swing. Hell, they had even already kissed. In Malfoy's estimation, they were already on the equivalent of a fifth or sixth date.

The wedding was at 11:00 am, over by noon, they arrived at the reception by 1:00 pm, and now it was almost four o'clock. This was the epitome of speed dating. Five hours equals five dates. If they stayed until nightfall, they would be practically engaged. He smiled to himself.

He held her hand, and swayed back and forth, still thinking over his theory. He was brought back to his senses when she said, "The song is over, Malfoy."

"Oh, right," he said. He took her hand and led her back to the table.

"Why are you grinning?" she asked him.

Should he tell her? He decided he must. He reached for two champagne flutes that were on the buffet table and handed one to her. He steered her over to a table. They sat down, and he smiled again and told her his theory. Five hours equaled five dates. He went through the list with her, one – familiarization, two – mutual attractiveness, three – proper etiquette, four – flirting and signs of affection, or in their case kissing.

She marveled at his premise of their relationship, and said, "If this is our fifth date, then what usually happens on the fifth date?"

"Sex, and lots of it," he said unabashed.

She said, "Right here on the table, or shall we go back out in the field?"

"The table would be fine," he said, taking her bait.

"I find it hard to believe you wait until the fifth date for sex," she commented.

"It's different for each woman I date," he said truthfully.

"So, let me get this straight. If you pay the woman, for example, a prostitute, you sleep with her on the first date, right?" she joked.

"But of course," he said. "But she need not be a prostitute. I spend a lot of money on women who aren't prostitutes, too. And I might wait for the second date to expect sex."

"So, if you spent a lot of money on a woman, wining and dining her, take her to a show, and buy her a present, you expect sex on the second date, is that about right?" she jested.

"You can read me like a book," he said.

"Third date sex would probably come about because you wined and dined her, plus you took her to a show or something, but you haven't bought her the present yet," she said, really thinking about this.

"Hmmm," he hummed.

"A fourth date sex would constitute the exchange of money, wining, dining, a show, but maybe a little bit of respect, and admiration. You would wait for the fourth date for someone you liked and respected, right?" she bartered.

"What's respect?" he asked, taking two more flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. He handed another one to her.

"So, if this is our fifth date, then what will it take to sleep with me. You haven't paid me, you didn't really wined and dined me, since you neither a.) Paid for the food, or b.) Paid for the wine. The only 'show' we saw was the monstrosity of Ron and Pansy on the dance floor earlier and I didn't want to see that, so we are left with only the 'respect' part, which you claim not to know the meaning of…I think that covers it," she finished.

"Does that mean no sex on the table?" he asked.

"Or in the field," she added.

"When do you usually sleep with a bloke?" he asked, seriously.

"It differs. I dated other before Ron, all the times we broke up, and a couple after him, and I have to say, there's no set pattern. I have to care about them a lot, and I have to believe they care for me," she said. She suddenly seemed sad. She put her head on the table.

"What's wrong, Granger?" he asked, rubbing her back.

"No one cares for me," she said, morosely.

He took her champagne from her and emptied the bubbly liquid on the ground. He said, "No more alcohol. You aren't a fun drunk, Granger."

All of the sudden Harry Potter stood up at the long bridal party table and cleared his throat. He held up a glass of champagne and said, "It's time to toast the happy couple."

Hermione moaned and stood up. She said, "I'm going to the loo." She headed toward the house. He followed shortly after. He didn't want to hear the bloody toast either. He walked up the stairs and knocked on the bathroom door. He heard a man's voice say, "Just a moment."

He was shocked to hear a man's voice. He started back down the hall toward the stairs, when he saw her sitting on the side of a bed in one of the many bedrooms. He knocked on the open door and said, "This isn't the loo."

"It's occupied," she said.

"I know," he said.

"I didn't really have to go," she confessed.

"I know," he said again.

"How did you know?" She laughed.

"You're a terrible liar. I'm a wonderful liar. That's how I knew," he said.

"That's probably true," she agreed, "but let's test your theory. I will tell either a lie or a truth, and you have to ascertain which my statement is."

"Okay, but for this to work, we have to look in each other's eyes, and I have to hold your hands," he decided.

"Why?" she asked.

"Your eyes are the windows to your soul, Granger, and a person's hands can tell a lot about them," he told her, although he really just wanted to hold her hands. "Now, sit up on the bed here, and face me."

She kicked off her shoes, as did he. They both sat with their legs crossed in front of them, facing the other, on the bed. He took both her hands in his. His hands were slightly sweaty. He said, "Sorry," and wiped them on his slacks.

She said, "I don't mind," and took his hands again.

"You go first, Miss Granger," he urged.

She thought for a long moment and then said, "I have only slept with five men my entire life."

He looked deeply in her eyes. They held no lie as far as he could see. Her breathing was still steady, her gaze had not left his, and her hands were relaxed in his. Could that really be the truth? He said, "Truth."

"Good for you, Malfoy," she said.

"My turn," he said. He looked deeply in her eyes and said, "I secretly had a crush on you since I was 14 years old."

She examined his face. He wasn't smiling, his eyes held hers, and his hands were no longer sweating. Still, he did say he was good at lying. She said, "That's a lie."

"You're right, geesh, Granger, you aren't half bad at this," he said. She wasn't sure she was happy that was a lie. He could tell, so he said, "Yes, the truth is I've had a crush on you since 13, the day you slapped my face."

"Right," she said in disbelief, "now you're lying."

"Believe what you may, your turn," he continued.

She thought long and hard once again, and said, "I'm still in love with Ron."

He wanted to believe that was a lie, but something told him it was slightly the truth. Her face suddenly turned from happy to sad. He let go of her hands and instead of saying a word, he grabbed her upper arms and brought her over to his side, and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She started to cry. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing at all.

After a many seconds, she lifted her head and she had the largest grin on her face. She said, "I am too a good liar!"

"You aren't right in the head!" he said in anger, pushing her. He pushed her so hard she landed on the floor.

She was laughing for all she was worth and said, "You even believed the tears!"

"I don't want to play with you anymore," he said, and he stood up, stormed out the room, and slammed the door shut.

She remained on the floor, laughing. A second later, he opened the door and said, "You didn't even believe my indignation?"

"A bit over the top, really," she said, sitting up on the floor, "Overacting, melodramatic, and all."

"I hate you, Granger," he said, with no expression. She looked up at him from her place on the floor. She struggled to stand, feeling a bit woozy from too much champagne and the head rush of a good laugh. She stood beside him and looked deeply in his eyes.

She said, "I think that's a lie, Malfoy."

"It's the truth," he said again.

"Do you want me to fake cry again?" she asked. "Boo-hoo, Malfoy hates me. I've spent most of my life reconciled with that fact, so if that is indeed the truth, I suppose I would live."

The mood in the room suddenly turned serious. He turned, she assumed to leave again, but it was to shut the door once more, this time quietly. He walked back up to her, and positioned one hand on her cheek, and the other one on her back. He leaned in slowly, kissed her lips gently, and asked, "Is this a lie?" He looked at her. She planted her hands on his shoulders.

"I can't tell, do it again," she teased.

He smiled and leaned in and gave her another kiss, this one a tad longer, and with more pressure. He said, "Truth or lie?"

"I still don't have enough data to make an educated guess. I need more evidence," she proclaimed.

This time he put both hands on her back and pressed her body flush against his. He kissed her with a long, opened mouth kiss, teasing her lips, first the top, then the bottom, then both together, no tongue, just gloriously sweet, gentle and long. He brought his head up and said, "Enough evidence?"

She took a deep ragged breath and said, "Yes, for now."

"What's your verdict," he asked in a low voice, full of passion. He was still holding her close.

She said, "That was certainly not a lie. Neither was your proclamation of hate earlier. Oh, you may have hated me at one time in your life, when we were children, but not anymore, and certainly not right here, right now." She set a hand to his face and put her thumb on his lip. He took that hand from his face and kissed it, on her palm. He looked at her hand in his, and got a sudden flash of his future. Wow.

He kissed her palm a second time, letting his lips linger on her exposed flesh.

She said, "This was a nice fifth date."

He let her go, but only slightly. He held on to the hand he had just kissed. He said, "Still no sex, though, woe is me."

"You're funny," she said, without hesitation.

He looked at her strangely, as he guided them to the door. He said, "Funny, ha ha, or funny strange?"

"Both, I guess, but that could be said about me, too," she said to him.

"Oh, I've said that so many times about you," he remarked.

"Now that better be a lie," she said, as they walked back to the hall. He just smiled to himself. No, it wasn't a lie, but it didn't matter. Nothing about the way he felt for her was a lie, and for Draco Malfoy, finally facing the truth was a very big deal.

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	10. Chapter 10

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**Chapter 10 - **

Draco took Hermione's hand and they left the house. They went out the front door once again, and headed down the lane, toward the unknown. Neither knew where they were going, either on their walk, or in their relationship. Hermione looked down at their hands, and back toward the road. She said, "Tell me something about you that I don't know, Malfoy."

"I sleep in the nude," he uttered.

She laughed for fifteen seconds. "Oh goodness," she said between laughs.

"What's so funny?" He smiled at her.

"Just processing a mental image," she declared.

"If that were true, you would not be laughing," he said, proudly.

She laughed for ten seconds that time. Then she said, "What would I be doing? Running away in fear and shock?"

"Alright, enough laughing at my expense," he said. "Tell me something about you that I don't know."

"Let's see," she thought for a moment, "I like to read."

"You don't say," he said annoyed.

"No, that's not my answer," she grinned, "I play the piano."

"You do?" he was surprised. "Are you any good?"

"I don't know, I think so," she said modestly. "I took lessons from age four to ten. Of course, I took dance lessons all those years as well, and you saw me out there on the dance floor."

They stopped to rest by a small covered bridge. They sat on the stone ledge, which held up the one side of the wooden entry arch to the bridge. It was barely large enough for one to sit.

"You weren't that bad," he replied, still holding her hand. He gave it a little squeeze, and then let it go. He stood up. He had pent up energy. He desperately wanted to grab her, throw her on the ground, and snog the daylights out of her. He turned to face her and said, "My turn, something else you don't know about me is that I too play the piano."

"Really?"

"Do you doubt me?" he asked.

"Didn't we clarify in the bedroom earlier that you were an artful liar?" she asked.

"Artful? Are we making up words now, and no, I'm not lying, I do play the piano," he said.

"You're probably much better than I, and I know 'artful' is a word," she added.

"Tell me its dictionary definition," he quizzed, looking down at her.

"It means cunning and devious, deceitful," she stated.

"You are making that up," he said.

"You're silly," she said back, "you know it's a word."

"I'm silly?" He laughed. "I'm not sure I've been called 'silly' since I was five years old. Tell me something else about yourself, Granger. Like, do you usually make up words?" he asked.

She stood up and said, "I'm sure they have a dictionary at the Burrow, we can go look up the definition."

He leaned against the stone ledge, which she had just abandoned. He said, "No, I believe, I believe. Tell me your other hidden talents. So far I know you like to read, you play the piano, and you make up words."

She glared at him with a halfway smile. She said, "I make a very mean three egg omelet."

"Really?" he stood up. He approached her and said, "That's my usual morning after meal."

She looked confused and said, "Morning after meal? What does that mean?"

"Look it up in the dictionary, Granger," he said playfully.

It took her only a moment to comprehend and then she said, "OH."

She looked around, embarrassed. He said, "What's your morning after meal? Oh, that's right; you've only had sex five times, so you probably don't have rituals like morning after meals yet."

She stared at him with a look he couldn't pinpoint and said, "I said I've only slept with five men, not that I've only had sex five times, and now I really regret telling you that, if you're only going to use it to make fun of me." She turned from the bridge, and started back down the lane to the Burrow.

He furrowed his brows. He ran after her and said, "Listen, I'm sorry. I know 'artful' is a word."

She whipped around quickly and said, "Is everything a joke to you?"

"No," he said, irritated, "and forgive me for trying to lighten the mood." Now he walked away from her.

She stood and watched him walk down the lane. If his dating theory from earlier was correct, this would be their sixth date. Did people usually have their first argument on their sixth date? Hermione didn't think so. She sighed, afraid that she had ruined everything, because she couldn't take a joke. She stopped by a broken-down, overturned, wheelbarrow. She wiped at the rusted metal with her hand, and then figured that her dress was already ruined from earlier, so she sat down to think. What should she do to remedy the current situation? Perhaps Draco wouldn't even still be at the reception when she returned. If he wasn't, should she call him? Go visit? Send him a piano? She smiled at the thought. She leaned down and took off her shoes. She rubbed her tired feet. She had done more walking today than she had meant to do. Her shoes weren't made for so much walking, or runny, or even dancing. She threw them over her shoulder.

"OUCH!"

She turned around. Draco had one of her shoes in his hand. He then bent down to pick up the other one. He said, "You hit me with your shoes."

She stood up and said, "I didn't know you were back there."

"Then why were you throwing your shoes, if you weren't throwing them at me?" he asked, handing her shoes back to her.

"They were so damn uncomfortable that I tossed the over my shoulder. Where did you come from, anyway?" she asked.

"When a man loves a woman, they have sex, and sometimes one of the man's little swimmers will reach the woman's eggs, and the results are someone like me, and that's were I come from, sweetheart," he said, with no trace of humour.

"I never knew that," she said with a perfectly straight face. "However, I meant, I thought you went back to the reception. Wait a minute, so a man has to love the woman for his swimmers to reach her eggs?"

"I decided to come back when I saw you sitting there, so I decided to sneak up on you," he admitted, adding, "And no, love doesn't always have to be involved, and I feel uncomfortable talking to you about this. You should ask your mummy these questions, Granger, not me."

She chortled and said, "My mummy already told me all I need to know. Now enough of that subject. What would you have done if you had succeeded in sneaking up on me? Say my shoes had stayed on my feet, and I was left unaware of your presence. What would have happened? What would you have done?" she asked, regarding him with both hands on her hips and her head cocked to the side.

"You will never know now," he answered.

"But I want to know," she begged.

"Then you'll be disappointed," he concluded, stepping closer.

"Come on, recreate what would have happened," she urged, sitting back on the rusted old wheelbarrow. "I'll even put my shoes back on my feet," and she did. She sat with her back to him and said, "Okay, now you sneak up on me. I'll pretend to be oblivious."

She started humming. He said, "You weren't humming like some idiot."

"Just sneak up on me already," she turned and said to him. She turned back around and hummed again. He could hardly suppress his smile.

He walked several steps away from her, and then he walked back. She looked so pretty sitting there, even with her back to him. In all truthfulness, he had no idea what he would have done once he approached her. Now, thinking off the cuff, he closed the space between them and grabbed her so swiftly she toppled off her perch, and they both landed in a heap on the ground. Him on his backside, and her on top, facing away from him. They both started to laugh.

He turned her around so she was lying by his side. She said, "That's what you had planned? Tackling me?"

"And this," he said, bringing his lips down to hers. They had almost reached her when he brought his head back up and he looked at her once more. He said, "I could easily fall for you."

"Nice play on words, since you literally did fall on me," she said.

"I'm very artful like that," he said, as he progress with his earlier intent, and bent his head to kiss her lips languidly. This time, it was an open, passionate kiss. No more holding back. He playful licked her lips, as he took her bottom lips between his, and sucked on it and then mischievously bit down. He opened her mouth under his, and touched the tip of his tongue to hers, before plunging it in more intently. After many seconds had past, he brought his head up.

Her cheeks were blushed, and her hair was wild around her head, like a halo. He put his hand on her forehead, and brushed a stray hair away from her brow. He said, "And that's what I would have done if I had caught you unaware. Unfortunately, you attacked me with your shoes before I could carry out my dastardly deed."

"Yes, how unfortunate," she agreed. He started to stand up, offering her his hand. They both stood and she said, "Somehow I have ended up on the ground a lot today."

"And the day's not even over yet!" he mused.

"And that, my dear, is a fortunate thing," she said, taking the initiate, and grasping his hand in hers. They started back toward the house, cutting through the field this time, and forgetting about the little lane, from which they had just come.

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	11. Chapter 11

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**Chapter 11 - **

They were nearing the house, crossing the green field, holding hands. She had taken the initiate this time, as she took his hand in hers. He wondered if she intended on holding his hand once they came in view of the guests at the reception. Draco would soon find out, as they were coming upon the house now. Hermione still had a firm hold on his hand. The most unlikely pair at the whole party, holding hands. Surely, there was a shift in the earth's gravitation pull, for that was a more likely explanation for these two to be holding hands, than for the possible reason that maybe they were falling for each other.

Without a spoken word passing between them, they walked toward the back of the Burrow. It was near 6:00 pm, and somehow the party seemed to be going as strong as ever. Most of the Weasley men were taking turns telling 'Ron' stories, as the other guests roared with laughter. Most of the partygoers didn't even notice the return of the two fugitives. Harry Potter was not one of them. He looked at their clasped hands and then into the face of Hermione Granger. She was smiling. She looked beautiful and happy. He was happy for her. He looked at Malfoy. He was looking at Hermione as well. So be it.

Draco pulled Hermione over to a table, and he sat down on a chair. She started to sit next to him, but he pulled her on his lap, as if it were the most natural thing to do. He motioned to a waiter to bring them some wine.

His arm went tightly around her waist. She looked at his face, and her hand stroked his cheek lightly. The waiter returned with the wine. She took a drink, and set her glass on the table. He took a drink and kept his glass in his free hand.

Soon, Ron's oldest brother Bill was regaling the first time Ron ever showed an interest in girls. He laughed when he recalled that Ron wanted to give his first crush a present for Christmas, and he wrote to Bill for advice. Hermione knew this story was about her. She blushed, and hoped no one would notice. She dare not look over to Draco. Bill was just at the part where he advised Ron not to give the girl a box of boogie-flavoured candy, and the entire crowd erupted in laughter. He said he told his brother that perhaps chocolate would be a better alternative. He then said, "No wonder it took Ron six more years to have the nerve to finally ask her out! Maybe if he had his way, and gave her the boogie-flavoured candy, she would have just hexed him in the beginning, and spared us all the heartache of a lovesick fool for all those years."

Again, everyone laughed. Everyone but Hermione. Certain that her face was red again, she was looking down at the ground. Draco looked right at her. So did Harry.

Ron said, "Oh well, it worked out in the end. My Pansy likes boogie-flavoured candy, and she would never hex me!"

Hermione felt goose bumps on her arms. She felt a prickly, hot feeling to the back of her neck. She wanted to cry. Shut up, Ron! Just shut up!

He didn't. He said, "To my new lovely wife, you accepts me for who I am, and who has never tried to change me! You need me, and you let me be the strong one. You never make me feel inadequate or stupid, and you love me warts and all!"

Hermione wanted to crawl under the table, curl into a ball, and die right on the spot.

Was that how Ron felt? Did he think she never accepted him? Did she belittle him, and make him feel like less of a man?

She felt tears spring to her eyes. She tried to get off Draco's lap, but his hold tightened. He whispered, "Hermione?"

She couldn't look at him. Soon, George Weasley was telling another story. Oh lord, this one was about her as well. He was talking about the year of the Yule ball, and about how Ron didn't have the nerve to invite a girl to the ball, so Harry had to do it for him. Please, Hermione thought, don't mention me!

Harry rushed over to Draco and Hermione. He could see her distress. He leaned down and said, "Draco would you and Hermione care to go inside for me and see if there's any more champagne?"

Draco nodded to Harry, stood up, took Hermione's hand, and led her around the outside of the throng of people. He opened the back door, and guided her in, his hand on the small of her back.

She stood by the sink, looking out the window toward the reception. She heard another roar of laughter. She said, "They must have gotten to the punchline. The one about how Ron and I had a big fight after the ball."

Draco put his hand on her back, and rubbed it in small circles. He turned her around and said, "You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen that night. Your dress was periwinkle, if I recall. It looked like silk spun by angels, for only angels could have made you look like one of them. It fit you like a glove. Your hair was up on top of your head in small ringlets, and you were so beautiful you sparkled. Every single boy and man in that room noticed you. Not Fleur, not Cho Chang, but you, Hermione Granger. Ron Weasley has never deserved you. You deserve someone who is your equal, not below you. Not all those people out there are laughing at you. They are laughing at him. Even his family."

She knew he was right. She leaned into him for a hug, which she received. He put both hands on her back, his right hand near her neck, on her exposed skin. He kissed the side of her neck. Hermione looked up at him, and his thumb wiped away the single tear that traveled down her face. He kissed her cheek.

Harry came in the kitchen and said, "There's more champagne outside. I forgot. Thanks for coming in to look, though, Draco."

Draco turned to Harry, nodded in acknowledgement, and said, "Thank you, Potter."

"They're all talking about other things now, if you want to come back outside," Harry told them.

Hermione looked so sad, Draco thought. He said, "Maybe in a bit."

He steered her toward the kitchen table. He sat on the table, and brought her close to him, between his legs.

"Mrs. Weasley would go barking mad if she knew someone was sitting on her table," Hermione said, with a weak smile.

He kept her firmly in place, his arms around her body, and said, "That woman is barking mad anyway, to have all those children."

Hermione leaned against his chest and without looking at him, she said, "What date are we on, now?"

"Well, we're at the stage of our relationship were the other's feelings are paramount to our own. We are utterly content and relaxed with each other, and the other's mood is a reflection of our own. I would say we jumped right from date six to ten."

She laughed and brought her head off his shoulder. She asked, "Have you ever waited for the tenth date to sleep with someone?"

He frowned, a contrived countenance, and said, "No, I have not, and I am beginning to feel a bit put out, Granger. How much longer shall I date you for you to finally sleep with me?"

She placed her hand on his cheek and her eyes smiled with delight. She said, "Let's keep that part of our relationship a surprise."

"A surprise? What are you going to do, grab me, pull me in the nearest broom cupboard, and have your evil way with me?" he asked.

"Well, damn, now that you know my plan, I apparently can't do that. I feel so sorry for you, Draco," she said, amused.

"Oh, wait," he amended, "that was my plan all along, not yours. My apologies. Your plan was much different."

She took both his hands in hers, and wrapped her fingers through his. She asked, "What was my plan?"

"Your plan was to make me fall madly in love with you, and then whisk you away somewhere for a romantic encounter that you would never forget," he regaled, letting go of her hands, and pulling her closer to him. Her thighs were against the table, as she was almost flush against his sitting form. His legs still parted, so she could stand close.

"Is my plan working?" she asked carefully.

"Exceptionally well," he said, just as guarded. He kissed her mouth again, this time a sweet, inviting kiss. What he was inviting her for, she wasn't completely sure.

Draco pushed her away and jumped off the table. At first, she wondered what she had done wrong. Her queries were answered, when he grabbed her hand and headed toward the closest thing resembling a broom cupboard. It was the pantry. There was barely room for one, let alone two.

Once inside, she asked, "What are we doing in here?"

"I've decided to go with my plan, you know, broom cupboard, having my evil way with you, the whole cup of tea," he said, kissing her palm, and then her wrist.

"What about my plan? Will there be no falling in love, no romantic get-a-way?" she asked.

He took a deep breath and said, "But, Granger, it's too late for that."

"What do you mean?" she asked, worried.

"Why, you silly thing, I've already fallen in love with you," he said plainly.

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	12. Chapter 12

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**Chapter 12 - **

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh, cry, scream or run away in fear. He just said he had fallen in love with her. How ridiculous. They haven't even gone out on a 'real date', and he said something as preposterous as that!

They were pressed together in the tight, dark, pantry and he had told her that he loved her and she hardly knew what to say in return.

He asked, "Did you hear what I said, Granger?"

Had she heard what he said? Not only had she heard, but it also was causing her to have a mild heart attack. When she had not answered, he asked again, "Granger, did you hear me?"

"No," she lied.

He smiled. He brought her wrist up to his mouth, and kissed her pulse point. He felt how rapidly her heart was beating by the telemetry of her pulse. He brought his face up to hers, which in the cramp confines of the pantry, was only a hairsbreadth away. He said again, "I think I love you," and this time he brought her arm up to his mouth and kissed the inside crook of her arm, where her forearm joined her upper arm, behind her elbow. After the kiss, he draped her arm over his shoulder. He waited for a response, to either the kiss or the words he spoke.

Her eyes, wide with fear, had yet to blink. He smiled again, and said, "Earth to Granger, can you hear me?"

She shook her head. "You can't hear me?" he asked, amused.

She shook her head again. He smiled widely and said, "Then I must use sign language." He skimmed his fingertips down her face, to her neck, down her shoulder, to the tips of her fingers. He then reached down with his hand, and placed his hand on her outer thigh, below her hip, over her dress. He inched the material up with his fingers, until he touched bare skin. His hand remained on her leg; he bent his head and kissed her neck. He brushed his tongue against the long column of her neck. He looked at her again and said, "Does that help explain the simple words you refuse to hear?"

Again, she only shook her head. Malfoy decided she was not being dense, and she was not being coy, but that she truly was in denial of what he was saying. His hand, still on her thigh, reached down to her knee, and hooked her leg over his hip. He leaned against her, and pressed her back against the shelves in the small closet. He whispered in her ear, "I love you," and he nibbled on her ear, and then licked the outer rim. His right hand kept her leg over his hip. When he was assured she would leave it there on her own, his hand went to her backside, and pressed firmly, then went up to rest on her lower back. He kissed her mouth long and hard.

She pushed against him with her hands, leaving them on his chest, burning his skin, as she brought her leg down. She said, "I can't breathe in here. Can you breathe?"

Just then, the door opened. George Weasley reached between the pair, though they were standing closely together, grabbed a bottle of rum that was on a shelf, and closed the door again, as if he had not noticed they were in there. He shut the door and left them to their devices. Hermione reached for the latch, but Draco stood directly in front, to block her access.

"Hermione, did you hear me?" he asked, anxiously.

"No," she said, for the third time.

"You didn't hear me?" he asked, perturbed.

"I heard, I just mean, 'no', you don't love me," she said anxiously.

"I do."

"You don't."

"I think I do."

"I know you don't!"

"I know I do!"

"You're mad!"

"You're beautiful!"

"Stop it, Malfoy!" she insisted, pushing against his chest. He had nowhere to go. "What are we doing in a pantry, Malfoy?" she finally asked.

"I thought you might be hungry," he said with a laugh.

"Please, let's get out of here. What will people think?" Hermione asked frantically.

"That we're snogging in the cupboard," he said matter of fact.

What was wrong with her? Maybe she really didn't hear him, or if she did, she didn't believe him. She tried to open the latch once more, but his body was in front of the door, and she had to reach between his body and his arm. He clamped his arm down, trapping her arm between his arm and his body. She looked up at him, pleading.

"Granger, we aren't leaving here until you tell me what you feel about my proclamation," he stated, grabbing her hand in his.

She was still slightly in shock, and the normal reaction for her would be to scream, run and hide, hex his arse, or cry. Perhaps even all of those things combined. Those would be normal reactions. Why was she not doing any of those things? Instead, she felt a large grin spread across her face. She tried to hide it, but it broke through anyway. Next, she let out two short laughs. He smiled again and raised his brows. She threw her head back, laughed again, and said, "What the hell! I just might love you too, Malfoy."

He released her hand, which was a mistake, because she brought both her hands up to her face, and hid behind them.

He tried to pry them off her face, but she was stronger than she looked. He said, "Look at me, Granger."

"No!" she practically screamed in excitement. He thought the word 'no' was getting old.

He opened the pantry door and stepped out to the kitchen. She brought her hands away from her face, and all the giddy exhilaration she felt just a moment ago dissipated. She stood alone, in the pantry, confused, and baffled. She was also highly embarrassed. Lord, did she tell Malfoy she loved him? In addition, was his response to her returning his affirmation of affection, to walk out and leave her alone? Damn him.

Now she felt very awkward, standing alone in a cupboard. She frowned. She sat down on the floor, in the small cramped space, and brought her knees up near her face. She placed her head on the top of them and sighed. If she had her purse, and her wand, she would disapparate and go home.

With her face hidden on her knees, she didn't even look up when the door to the little cubbyhole opened once again. She felt someone separate her legs, pushing one next to the wall, as the person squeezed between them, with her other leg next to the door. She looked up, and he was somehow sitting on the floor, facing her. He had a bottle of champagne and two flutes.

He handed her a glass and said, "We need to celebrate."

"Is that why you left?" she asked.

He could tell she felt distressed. He didn't understand. He said, "Of course. Did you think I would make you tell me that you loved me, and then just up and leave you?" he asked.

That was exactly what she thought. She smiled, lied, and said her new favourite word, "No. I didn't think that."

"Sure you didn't," he drawled. He poured her some champagne, and then some for him. He clinked his glass to hers and said, "To, Granger, the only girl I would ever want to be in a store cupboard with."

She grinned and took a drink. The bubbles tickled her nose. She wrinkled it and said, "I really don't like champagne."

"More of a beer girl, Granger?" he asked.

"No, more of a tea girl," she amended. He took her glass, and sat it on a shelf over their heads, next to his. He reached for her upper arms, and he pulled her so close, that she was literally straddling him. Her dress, hiked up as it was, was almost indecent. His hands went around and cupped her backside, and he lifted her on his lap. With his legs folded under her, and her sitting on him, facing him, she was sure she was too heavy, and sure that she was causing him discomfort.

She WAS causing him discomfort, but of a different sort.

Hermione placed her arms around his neck, and this time she kissed him. She started slowly, hesitantly, pulling and playing with his lips. They soon found a mutual ease in their kissing. It was as if they had been kissing forever, but it was far from mundane. It was new, exciting, and full of anticipation. She parted her lips from his, and took a deep breath.

"No, you don't," he said, and he put his hand on the back of her head and pushed her toward him once more. He assaulted her lips with fury. A passion unbridled. She was overjoyed and jubilant.

She pulled her face away again, and said, "We have to get out of here."

"Do you want to go to my place?" he asked.

"What?" she asked, scooting back as far as she could, which wasn't far, as she brought her leg over his, so her legs were together. She tried to get on her knees, so she could stand.

He repeated, "Do you want to go to my place? Or we can go to yours. It doesn't matter, as long as there's a bed." He pushed himself off the floor, to stand. She was still on her knees, looking up at him. What did he mean?

"What are you thinking, Malfoy?"

"I'm thinking I want to have sex with you. Isn't that what you meant when you said we had to get out of here?" he asked, offering his hand to her to help her stand.

She took his hand, and stood beside him.

"No, I meant we shouldn't get carried away, and we should get back to the reception," she explained, offended that he would think she would just sleep with him without even having dated him. She said, "Do you think I'm going to sleep with you, just because you said that you loved me?"

"Just because I said that I loved you?" he asked indignantly, with knitted brows. "How often in my life do you think I've told a woman that I've loved them?"

"Oh, let me think," she said, sarcastically, "maybe every time you've wanted to shag them?"

"Never mind what you think of me, Granger, what do you think of yourself?" he said, pointing a finger right at her chest. This time, he did leave the pantry, and her. He slammed the door shut, and she stood there, alone, and confused.

Well, what would a normal person think?

She bit her lip, so hard that it hurt. She turned toward the shelves, and sat down once again, with her back against the wall, next to the door. She hung her head. She was so stupid. This was turning out to be an awful day again. She let her head bang back on the wall, and closed her eyes. The door opened again. It was probably just another Weasley getting another bottle of alcohol. She didn't even bother opening her eyes. She dropped her head forward. She felt a hand touch the top of her head. She kept her eyes closed. The hand went down to her chin, forcing her head up. The person said, "Look at me, Granger."

She opened her eyes.

"I apologize," Draco said. "I know you're not some slag who sleeps with a bloke after only one date. Hell, this wasn't even really a date, but please know this; I have never, and I mean never, said 'I love you' to a woman before. Not even to get them to sleep with me. I meant what I said, and I'm sorry if you thought it was just a ploy to sleep with you. I'm sorry if I offended you in any way. Please, tell me you've forgiven me."

She looked up at him, and she wanted to say so much, but no words would escape her mouth. She wasn't even sure she was breathing. He really did care, didn't he? He reached down and took her upper arms, and pulled her to stand beside him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her body. She laid her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry I questioned your character, Malfoy, and your intent," she said quietly.

"Do you know, I think we've jumped to date number fourteen," he said in her ear. He kissed her cheek, and then her mouth once more.

Just then, Harry opened the door and said, "Come on out you two, the happy couple is looking for you."

Hermione looked at Draco in shock, and he looked utterly appalled. They both looked at Harry, and Hermione said, "Why in the bloody blue blazes do they want to see us?"

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	13. Chapter 13

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**Chapter 13 – **

"Why in the bloody, blue blazes do they want to see us?" Hermione asked. Draco nodded in agreement.

"I just know that they're getting ready to leave for their honeymoon, and Ron asked me to go find Hermione, and Pansy asked me to go find Draco, and since George Weasley told everyone you were snogging in the pantry, I knew I could find you together," Harry justified.

"First, Harry, when George opened the pantry, we were only talking," she explained.

"You don't have to explain anything to Scarhead," Draco said.

"Shove it, blondie," Harry replied, and then he took Hermione's arm and said, "And George didn't really tell anyone anything. I just saw him open the door to get the alcohol, and I knew you two were in there. It was a joke. Now, come on." Harry kept his hand on her arm, practically dragging her outside. She looked back once, and reached her hand out, and Draco knew that outstretched reach was for him, and he grabbed her other hand, and pulled.

"We don't care to go out there, Potter," Draco said, pulling on Hermione.

"Just come see what they want to say," Harry said, pulling on the other arm.

"No, we don't care what they have to say," Draco said, pulling harder.

"Since when are you and Hermione a 'we'," Harry asked. He pulled harder as well.

"I'm not a piece of taffy!" Hermione mewed.

Neither man let her go. Ron came walking in the kitchen, saying, "Harry, did you find Hermione? Oh, Hermione, I need to talk to you before I leave." As soon as he said this, Pansy walked in as well. Both Harry and Draco let go of Hermione's arms.

She took a very deep, even breath, exhaling and inhaling, slowly, as she did earlier at the chapel. "What is it that you want to say, Ron?"

He took her arms, which had just been pulled by Harry and Draco, and moved his hands down to grasp her hands. He said, "I want to thank you."

She eyed him wearily, and said, "For what?"

"For letting me go. You knew we weren't right for each other before I did, and if you hadn't given me that extra little push, I never would have found Pansy. And the thing is, we were never right for each other, you and I, but I know your soul mate is out there, Hermione. Just be receptive to find him," Ron said.

Under normal circumstances, she might have thought those were nice sentiments. As it was, she was slightly put out, so she said, "I didn't _let _you go, Ronald. You and I were still very much together, at least as far as I knew, when you started seeing Pansy." Draco sniggered and Pansy huffed. "Second, what little push did I give you? Was my loving you a push? Was supporting your dreams for your future a push? You know what, I don't care, because you're right, we weren't meant for each other, and there _is_ someone out there for me. Actually, there's someone in this room for me, and I am receptive, and I have already found him."

Ron looked confused and said, "Huh?"

"Never mind, Ronald. Have a nice life," she surmised, taking the high road. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. She looked at the floor, feeling sad. Harry reached for her hand, but Draco took it first.

Draco stood between Hermione and Ron. He looked at Pansy, and said, "And what did you need to tell me, Pans?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I forgive you," she said.

He looked confused. "For what?" he asked.

"You broke my heart all those years ago, but I forgive you, for I found Ron, and he's my husband now, and we're happy, so I forgive you," she said again.

"I don't know why you're forgiving me, but I don't even care. I accept your forgiveness, for whatever insane reason you're offering it to me," Draco said. Suddenly, Pansy looked down and saw that Draco and Hermione were holding hands.

"Are you two dating?" she asked abruptly.

"Yes, we are on our, what is it Granger, our 14th date?" Draco quizzed.

"I think this is our 15th, dear," Hermione said, smiling.

"Oh, yes, our 15th ," Draco agreed.

"WHAT?" Ron and Pansy asked at the same time.

"Did you know about this, mate?" Ron asked, turning to Harry.

"Yes, I did. In fact, I've know about it since the beginning," Harry played along. He wanted to say, 'since this afternoon', but he held his tongue.

"Well, that's weird," Ron concluded.

"Why is it, weird, Ronald?" Hermione challenged.

"Well, you can hardly be a more unlikely pair!" Ron actually laughed. The nerve of him.

"I can think of a more unlikely pair," Hermione said, and she pointed at the 'happy' couple.

"Us?" Pansy asked, "We have more in common than you and Drakie. First, we are both purebloods. I can't even imagine Drakie dating a Mudblood."

"How dare you!" Hermione said. Even Ron looked at his new wife in shock.

Ron said, "Pansy, don't ever call her that again. She's still one of my best friends, and I still care for her a lot."

"I'll call her whatever I want, Ron," Pansy said smoothly. She took his hand and started to drag him out of the kitchen. She turned back around and said, "I give you both two or three more dates, and then you'll probably kill each other, or maybe Drakie will wise up and see that there's better fish in the ocean, like Ron finally discovered." She turned to leave again, but Hermione pulled Draco's wand out of his pocket.

"By better fish, you mean like you, you pug nosed, blowfish?" Hermione asked, pointing Draco's wand right at Pansy. He hadn't even noticed that she drew it out of his pocket.

Harry walked up to Hermione and pushed her arm down. He said, "Ron, you and Pansy had better leave. You have reservations to meet, remember." They left the kitchen, and Harry didn't let go of Hermione's wand hand until he was sure they disapparated away.

"Thanks for stopping me, Harry," Hermione said.

"I just didn't want to have to arrest you tonight. Too much paperwork. Next time you want to hex her, please make sure you don't do it in the presence of an Auror, and while using another Auror's wand. Just tell me ahead of time, and I'll leave the room, okay?" Harry asked, with a sheepish grin. Hermione smiled and kissed his cheek. Harry added, "Your 14th or 15th date?"

"We're counting every milestone of the day, as a date." Hermione laughed.

Draco said, "I think acceptance from your best friend, old lightning bolt here, would put us up at date 20 or 21, which means you could move in tomorrow." Draco laughed as well, joined in by Hermione.

Harry said, "I'm not admitting to acceptance, so you're back down to date 15." He turned to leave and said, "The party's still in full swing, so why don't you two come back outside." Harry turned and walked out the door.

Draco walked up to Hermione and took her hand. He said, "I would have paid a million galleons to see you hex her."

"Really, well if that offer still stands, I could find their hotel, and hex her there. They would have a right fun honeymoon. I could just put a couple of boils on her backside, or her face, whichever, since they look the same," Hermione gleamed.

Draco laughed and said, "My influence is bringing you over to the dark side, isn't it?"

"Oh, Malfoy, I've already been to the dark side and back again," she said with a laugh and a twinkle in her eye.

He came up to her closely again and said, "You were pretty quick there. I didn't even feel you take my wand out of my pocket."

She said, "Well, mine was in my purse, and it's over there on the table." She had a fake frown on her face. Almost a pout. He thought she looked adorable.

He said, "May I have my wand back?"

She said, "Certainly," and she put it back in his pocket. Now _that_ he felt.

He said, "Careful, Granger. You might hex the family jewels, there."

"Are they that valuable, Malfoy?" she asked coyly, with her hand still in his pocket. It was innocent enough. She wasn't 'touching' anything. Still, he was incredibly aroused.

"Yes, Granger, I have been told they are worth a lot. They are very valuable, for they bring pleasure to many," he said slowly, drawing his finger down her neck, to her cleavage, and leaving it to rest between her ample bosoms.

"I will have to take your word on that, Malfoy," she said, leaning her head against his neck. He could feel her breath against his skin. She put her arms around his neck and licked it slowly, starting at his jaw, and going down to his collarbone. She kissed his neck slowly, opening his collar with her hands, so she had more room to kiss him.

He whispered, "You are driving me to the point of distraction, Granger." His voice was husky in her ear. He returned her favour, and kissed down her neck again, sucking gently before he drew away.

"What do you want to do, Malfoy?" she asked, pushing him away.

"Wow," he exclaimed, "What a loaded question."

"I meant, do you want to go back out and join the revelers, or do you want to go sit in the living room, back to the roof, or there's probably another closet around here we haven't been," she mused.

"The roof?" he asked, surprised she would mention that.

"Is that the only thing you heard?" she asked, smiling.

"No, I recall the word 'closet' too." He smiled.

He took her hand and walked outside with her. There was a slow song being played by a live band. She asked, "Are we going to dance?"

He said, "I don't want to dance."

"Oh?" she asked.

"No, I just want to hold you, so this is a ruse. Everyone here will think we are dancing, but we'll know the truth," he said seductively. He pulled her close to him, and his hands traveled slowly down each arm. When his hands reached her hands, he brought them up to his neck, and draped her arms around his shoulders. He brought his hands up to her back, and pressed her body tightly to his. He was barely moving, just swaying slightly, back and forth. He was leading, she was following. Her hands stayed at his shoulders. One of his hands stayed on her back, traveling lightly from her upper back, to the sway of her back. His other hand went to her shoulder, and then around to her face. He touched her cheek with the back of his fingers.

He took the same hand and placed it on her heart, over her breasts. He said, "Your heartbeat is rapid again, and you look flushed."

"I wonder why?" she asked, breathing hard.

"What would your heart do if I kissed you right here on the dance floor, right here in front of all your friends, and the weasel's family?" he asked with hooded eyes.

"Why don't you find out, Malfoy?" she said, honestly.

He thought that was a wonderful plan. He lowered his mouth to hers. His mouth teased at her lips, kissing, pulling back, kissing, sucking, and pulling back. He sucked on her lips, and then lightly touched her lips with his tongue. That was the only prodding she needed to open up to him. His tongue danced wildly against hers, as her hands grasped his hair, tangling her fingers in his silky tresses.

His hands drew her as tightly to his body as he could. He was no longer coherent to place or time. To prove that fact, his right hand went to her shoulder, and brushed down to her breast, cupping it lightly. Of this action, she was very aware. She pushed away from him, and looked around to see if anyone saw. They did. Everyone was watching them. She looked at Draco once more and said, "I'm so sorry!" and she ran back into the house.

The thing was, no one was staring because of his 'slight of hand'. No one noticed that. What they did notice, was the fact that Hermione Granger seemed finally to be happy once again. They were all happy for her. Why did she run away?

He was going to find out, dammit!

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	14. Chapter 14

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**Chapter 14 -  
**

It was like heaven, dancing in Draco's arms. He held her so close; they almost melded into one. He took his hand and placed it above her heart, and told her she seemed flushed. She made a witty comment, but the whole time she was conscious of nothing but the fact that his hand was resting above her breasts, on her chest. He asked her what she thought everyone would think if he kissed her right there on the dance floor, and she told him to find out, so he did.

He teased her lips for many long moments, before opening her mouth under his, as he introduced his tongue. It was a glorious kiss. One of the best of her entire life. They were unaware of everyone around them, so much so that Draco put his right hand lightly on her left breast, cupping it without due consideration. That single act brought her back down to earth. Goodness, what if someone saw.

She pulled away, and it was as if there were a spotlight pointed right on Draco and Hermione, for it appeared that everyone in the back garden had turned his or her eyes to the pair. So that meant everyone saw him grope her like a common whore on the dance floor. She pushed away from him, said, "I'm so sorry," and she ran into the backdoor, and headed straight up to the third floor, to Ron's old room.

She shut the door quietly, and sat on Ron's bed. He still had the same disgusting Chudley Cannons blanket on his bed. She stood up for a minute and looked back down at the bed. Yuck, she wondered if Ron and Pansy had done anything in that bed. She moved over to a chair. She heard the door handle wiggle before she heard anything else. Hermione looked toward the door, and in walked Draco.

The first thing he asked was, "Is this Weasel's old room?" She meekly nodded. The second thing he asked, was, "What's wrong?"

She was embarrassed, so she looked down at the floor. She said quietly, "What were you doing down there?"

"Down where?" he asked confused.

She looked up in his eyes. "Outside, on the dance floor."

He came toward her, knelt by the chair, and he took one of her hands. She snatched it away.

"Please tell me what I've done," he said sincerely. "I thought you wanted me to kiss you." He leaned his elbow on her knees. She did not move it away.

She sighed and said, "I'm not upset about the kiss."

"Then what?" he asked.

"You touched my breast, right on the dance floor, right in front of everyone, like I'm some common whore, or something. It embarrassed me. Everyone saw," she said, standing quickly, and knocking him over on his rump.

He moved to his knees, and stood back up, to face her. She was now sitting on the bed. He looked at the bed, and wondered what disgusting things Weasel and Pansy the Pug had done in that bed, so instead of sitting next to her, he pulled her up by her shoulders and stood in front of her.

"I didn't even realize what I was doing, because I was so caught up in the moment, but I don't think anyone saw. It's not like we were flaunting anything out there," he explained.

"Everyone saw!"

"No they didn't."

"What are we doing here, Malfoy?" she asked.

"You mean in the Weasel's old room?" he asked back and he smiled.

She walked over to the window and looked out at the guests in the backyard. "You know that's not what I mean."

"Do you want to know my intentions, or something?" he joked.

"What if I do? Would that be so wrong?" She turned and looked at him.

"Wow, I wasn't expecting that," he said, honestly. He came up to her and said, "What do you want out of this? What would you like to happen tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that?"

"Why do I have to answer first?" she wondered aloud.

"Because, you're the one who started this line of questioning, anyway, you're supposed to be the brave one, so be courageous, Granger, and tell me what you want, and don't say that you don't know, or that you're not sure, or any such tripe. Just tell me what you want," he implored.

"What if what I want isn't what you want?" she reasoned.

"Then I'll laugh at you and make you regret the day you were born," he said, with a half smile.

He put his arms around her waist, and she couldn't help it, she put her head on his chest. She found the circle of his arms comforting. Without looking at him she said, "You said you loved me after one day, how is that possible?"

"I honestly don't know," he said.

She looked up at him and said, "If I can't answer with an 'I don't know', neither can you."

"Fine, Miss remembers everything I said, when I said that I loved you, I was just saying what I felt at that moment. I really felt at that moment that I loved you," he said.

"In that moment? Does that mean you aren't as sure now?" she asked.

He walked away from her and said, "For goodness sakes, Granger, I don't know. I don't think I would have said it if I didn't mean it, and I guess I mean it still. Now, answer my question, what do you want out of this?"

She looked at the floor. She suddenly found the pattern on the floorboards extremely interesting, for she did not want to look back up. When she did finally look up, he was still staring at her, waiting for her response. She said, "What if I said I want what Harry and Ginny have? I would even settle for what Ron and Pansy have. What if I said that I don't want that with just anyone, but I want it with you? Would you run and hide?"

"I guess not, since I'm still here," he answered back. Suddenly, he said, "Date 25."

"What?" she asked.

"We honestly just jumped up to date 25. We're asking the others intentions, and thinking of a possible future with each other. Date 25," he explained.

She could not help but smile. She said, "Do you want to go up on a hill, and watch the sunset?"

"Will it be all romantic and all that mush?" he asked.

"Probably," she answered.

"Will you try to kiss me?" he asked, smirking.

"Definitely," she answered.

"Will you try to touch my breasts?" he asked. He laughed before she could. She turned scarlet and he said, "Aye, how sweet, Granger is blushing."

"No, I'm not," she said.

"I know a blush when it crosses your cheeks, Miss Granger." He came up and touched her nose quickly with his index finger. Her hands went up to her cheeks, to hide her blush. He came up to her intimately, took her hands away from her face, and kept them in his.

"I know I think too much, and analyze things too much, and tend to talk things to death, but this is me, and this is who you get, okay?" she said. He pulled her so close to him, that her body was flush next to his. He kept his hands around her wrists and pulled her in for a kiss. He kissed her mouth fiercely. He kept her hands down to her sides.

He said, "Show me this lovely sunset, Hermione, but if it doesn't live up to my expectations, I guess you'll have to make it up to me, somehow."

He let go of one hand, and continued to hold the other. He dragged her downstairs, as she said, "We can just sneak out the front door."

"No, sneaking," he said, leading her downstairs. He added, "You aren't ashamed to be seen with me, are you?" He meant it as a joke, for he didn't really think that. She pulled him to a stop.

"I'm not ashamed!" she said, adamantly.

He knew that, but he wanted to play on her sympathies. He said, "I know that we are, what did Weasel say, an unlikely pair, and I know you're too good for me, but if you're in any way embarrassed to be seen with me, well, I understand."

She stopped walking and said, "I swear! I'm not ashamed, embarrassed, self-conscious, discomfited, or any thing else. If anything, I would think you would feel that way about me."

What did she say? "I was having a lark. I don't really think you feel that way." He wanted her to know that he really didn't, so he put his hands on her face and put his face close to hers, so that he could feel her warm breath on his skin. "I mean it. I know you're a good person, and sincere, and loyal. I think those are your best traits. And what a ninny you are, if you think I am too good for you."

"A ninny?" she smiled. "What, are you making up words now?"

"You've heard of ninny," he scolded.

"You're right, I have, I just didn't think anyone from this century would use a word like that," she said, smiling still.

"I shall ignore your cruel words," he said. He took her hand again, and walked out the front door and said, "Which way to this sunset?"

She pointed toward a hill, to the right of the house, past the field where she told him earlier that the Weasley family used to play Quidditch. They walked, hand in hand, up the hill. As soon as they walked up the hill, he said, "Where's the sunset?"

"It's too early," she plaintively said, "its summer, you know, so the sunset is probably another hour or so away."

"You brought me up to this hill under false pretenses," he pouted.

She sat down on the tall grass, and slipped off her shoes. He sat beside her. He put his hand on her knee. She slapped it off and said, "Fresh."

He smiled at her and said, "I can touch your breast on the dance floor, in front of a crowd, but up here on a hill, when we're alone, I can't touch your knee? Where's the reasoning in that?"

"Fine, touch my knee," she acted exasperated, and picked up his hand and put it back on her knee. He grinned, a wicked grin, and moved his hand upwards, bringing the hem of her dress with it. When his hand was on her bare upper thigh, she looked down at his hand, back up at his face, raised one eyebrow and said, "You really are pushing your luck."

"But, we've been dating almost a month now, and I haven't even seen you naked yet," he said lightly. "The least you can do is let me touch your bare thigh."

His hand stayed on her thigh, and she disregarded it for a moment, to say, "If we're on our 25th date, wouldn't that mean we've been dating for more than a month?" she asked.

"No, for with you and I, I figure we would probably want to see each other each and every day, so 25 dates would constitute dating for almost a month," he said, perfectly content with his reasoning. "We probably would even have more than one date a day, so that might equal a paltry three weeks."

"Wouldn't we get sick of each other?" she asked, no longer ignoring his hand, seeing that his thumb was moving back and forth against her skin, causing little goose pimples to raise upon her leg.

"Have you gotten sick of me yet today?" he asked, leaning in closer. He thought she smelled so sweet, like honey.

"No, I'm not sick of you, yet, that is," she said. She thought he smelled wonderful, like vanilla ice cream.

He put his free hand to his heart and said, "You wound me, Granger. To assume you would ever be sick of me cuts me to my very soul."

"You have a soul?" she joked.

He removed his hand from her thigh and without warning, pushed her to her back, leaning his entire body over hers. She used her arms mockingly to hold him back, as he used his to hold his body over her, not touching her, thus far. "I have a soul, Granger, and in that soul is a passion, which burns brightly, in its very depth, the likes of which you have never seen before. Shall I prove it to you?"

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	15. Chapter 15

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**Chapter 15 - **

Draco was leaning over Hermione, almost lying on top of her, but his arms held up his entire weight. She was making a feeble, nay, a mock attempt, to hold him off with her hands, placing them on his chest. He said, "I have a soul, Granger, and in that soul is a passion, which burns brightly, in its very depth, the likes of which you have never seen before. Shall I prove it to you?"

Hermione thought to herself…'oh my, oh my, oh my, what is he planning to do?' She did not have to wait long to see.

He fell down on top of her, full weight, trapping her arms between their bodies. His thigh strategically placed between her legs, his hands at her face, and his elbows holding up his upper body only. In a swift movement, his lips crashed down on hers, and he kissed her with a passion and a hunger, which true to his words, she had never seen before.

He kissed her long, hard, soft and sweet. His lips moved playfully on hers, as he dragged his lips across her cheek, to the sensitive area below her jaw. He sucked on the sensitive skin, drawing circles with his tongue. She threw her head back as far as she could, to grant him the access to which he sought.

He moved on her body, so he was now only on her right side. He put his right hand on her throat, as he continued to kiss her ear, and then her cheek, and then her mouth again. As he opened her mouth under his, she had an insane thought. This was without a doubt the best kiss she had ever had. That was not the insane part. The insane part was that it was better than any time she had ever made love in her whole life, and it was just a kiss.

His hand, still on her throat, moved to her collarbone, and then to her chest. He played with the collar of her dress. He kissed her full on the mouth again, and he decided to experiment, and give this whole 'touching her breast' thing another go. He placed his hand lightly on her left breast, seeking no harm, no foul, considering she was fully dressed.

Even through the fabric of her dress, and her undoubtedly proper bra, he could feel her tip harden. He had yet to move his hand at all. She was the sweetest nectar he had ever tasted, and if he did not stop soon, he would not be able to stop at all. He moved his hand down to her waist, and moved to lay on his side, then his back. He pulled her over, so she was partially on top of him. He stopped kissing her; but kept her tight in his grasp, one hand on her backside, resting on her bum, and one hand on her face. She was now the one forced to hold herself up from him.

"Wow, Hermione," he said, breathing hard.

"That's an understatement," she said, breathing just as hard.

"Did I prove to you that I have a soul?" he asked, smiling up at her.

She smiled back and said, "I believe you not only have a soul, but a heart, a mind, and a pool of passion that is as deep as the ocean, and as wide as the sky."

He pulled her head down with his hand on the back of her neck, and kissed her again. She lifted her head and said, "Malfoy, this is crazy!" She laughed hard, and she said again, incredulously, "This is so crazy!"

She made to get off him, but he held her down. "Why is it crazy?"

"Because, Malfoy, even though we've known each other for more than half our lives, we don't KNOW each other, do we?"

He placed his hand to the side of her hair, and tucked it behind her ear. He tilted his head so he could kiss her jaw. She lifted her head. She moaned slightly. He licked her neck and said, "I know one thing, when you moan like that, I lose all my faculties."

He let her go, taking several deep breaths, and as she was sitting up, he stood up, and walked away from her for a moment. He had to compose himself. It took all his might not to run back over there and ravage her to death.

With his back to her he said, "What do you want to know about me, Granger?" He turned back around, straightening his hair with his hands, and sat down next to her. She was straightening her dress as he asked this question. After he sat down, he reached up and stroked the back of her hair several times, to comb it in place.

"Well, why don't we just tell each other some things about ourselves? Not abstract things, like 'I play the piano', but things like middle names, birthdates, things like that. You start," Hermione said.

Draco, who was sitting right next to her on the ground, extended his hand and said, "Hello, my name is Draco Abraxas Malfoy." Hermione took his hand, and shook it. However, after shaking his hand, he did not let hers go. He held it tight the whole time he talked.

"I was born on June 5, 1980, in Wiltshire, England. I am an only child, my parents are former Death Eaters, and I have grey eyes and pale blond hair. I was in Slytherin House in school, and in my fifth year, I was a prefect. I was the seeker on our Quiddith team. My first name means Dragon or Serpent, in Latin, although I was named after a constellation. My last name is French, and means Bad faith. I work for the Ministry, as an Auror. I am single and I have never been married, or even so much as engaged. Is that enough information, my dear?"

Hermione grinned through the entire span of his speech. She said, "That's enough, for now. At least, that's enough 'facts'. May I make a few comments, before I commence?" He was still holding her hand. His thumb was now rubbing back and forth on the top of her hand.

He looked at face and said, "Ask me anything."

"Is your middle name really Abraxas?"

"Yes, I was named after my grandfather, and I know what my initials spell out, although the curse world has an 'N' in it. What else?" he asked.

"Where are your parents now?" she asked.

"At this exact moment, probably at Malfoy Manor. My father served only five years in prison. My mother 15 months," he answered, no longer looking at her. He was looking at her hand now, studying the outline of her palm. He said, "Go, Granger. Your turn."

She said, "My name is Hermione Jean Granger. I always thought my middle name was Jane, but then a funny thing happened when I was 17, my parents were looking at my birth certificate, and saw that the registrar had put 'Jean', instead of 'Jane', so I guess my middle name changed from Jane to Jean."

"I was born on September 19, 1979, in London, and my parents are both dentists. I, too, am an only child. I have one pet, a very old cat hybrid named Crookshanks. I have brown curly hair and brown eyes. I was named after a character from a Shakespeare play, 'A Winter's Tale,' and my favourite color is yellow."

"I'm a healer at St. Mungo's, and I love my work. I'm single, and have never been married or engaged, but not by my own choice." Her voice suddenly became softer, until she was no longer speaking at all. She was looking at the pattern of her dress. He still had her hand and he lifted it to his lips, to kiss it sweetly.

"My turn for questions," he said, "Your cat is still alive?"

Hermione looked at him indignant at first, and then saw that he was joking, so she merely said, "Yes, he's still alive. Is that your only comment to my autobiography?"

"No, I was going to make a comment how you're nine months older than I, but it doesn't matter to me. I like dating older women," he said.

"I'm not that much older," she whined.

"You are old enough to be my older sister, or my older cousin, or something," he remarked.

"You're a nutter," she said, with a small laugh.

He let go of her hand and pointed toward the horizon. "There's that beautiful sunset you promised me, Granger."

An intake of breath was inhaled through her lips, and after exhaling, she bit her bottom lip. The color of the sky, pink, red, gold, and orange, and the wisp of clouds, combined with the massive circle of the sun, literally astounded her.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked. She turned to look at him. He was staring, wide-eyed, mouth opened; looking at the most beautiful thing, he had ever seen. He was looking at Hermione Granger.

"Beautiful," he said back to her.

Her cheeks blushed, and she looked at the ground again. She said, "You shouldn't give false praise, it's unkind."

Was she serious? He put his hand under her chin to force her to look at him. "I never say anything I don't mean down in the very depths of my aforementioned soul, Hermione. I seriously think you are the most beautiful woman I have seen in a long, long, time. Maybe ever."

She was quiet. She continued to look at him, as his hand had not left her face. She finally spoke. "Please, don't play around with me. I couldn't stand it if my heart was broken again."

"What makes you think I would ever break your heart?" he asked, seriously.

She removed his hand from her face, and brought it up to her mouth, with her hand. She kissed his hand, and then laid it on the ground, between their sitting forms, still tight in her grasp. She said, "You could so easily break my heart, if anything you have said or any action you've taken today was false in anyway. Please, be truthful to me. Do you really want to see me after today? Do you really want to forge a relationship?"

The discussion had turned so serious, but he could tell just by looking in her eyes, that this was an important topic to her. He said, "My dearest, sweetest, beautiful, girl. If I ever do or say anything to you, from this point on, that distresses you, or causes you pain, embarrassment, or harms you physically or mentally, in anyway, than know this, I will be hurting myself as well. Because I really think to hurt you in anyway would be to hurt myself, and to hurt myself is the last thing I would ever want to do." He added that last part to make her smile. It worked. She was beaming. She suddenly threw herself on him, causing him to fall over. She kissed him warmly on the lips.

"That was the perfect thing to say!" she said. She moved to lie on top of him, and kissed him deeply, once more. He was uncomfortable, twofold, one, because she was causing a certain reaction, which he knew he was helpless to take care of at the moment, and second, because a large rock, stick, or thicket, was pressing into his backside. He COULD take care of that problem. He wiggled around slightly, with her still on top, so that he was away from the offending object.

As he was wiggling under her, she misread the signs, and thought that he was taking care of his other problem. So embarrassed by her brazen outburst, (throwing herself in his arms) she wiggled to move out of his arms. He misread this action, and held her tighter, pulling her over him so that he was on top, and she was on bottom.

The result was that the pair inexplicably began to roll down the hill. They held on tight to each other the entire way. He would let out an occasional "Ouch," as she let out a "Humph!" When they finally stopped rolling, they were at the very bottom of the hill. Both were shocked, and unkempt, as well as slightly injured. She sat up, with another cut in her hand, right below where she cut it earlier in the day. He stayed on his back, and said, "Oh, my bum!" She crawled over to him, laughing.

She said, "Your bum? Did you hurt your buttocks, Malfoy?"

"No, you hurt me," he amended, trying to sit up. He lay back down and said, "I really hurt myself."

She kneeled over him, and turned him over to his side. She let out a gasp. "What?" he asked alarmed.

"It's your backside that hurts?" she asked, with him still on his side.

"Well, not my backside so much, as…well, fine, my backside, why?" he asked back. She started laughing, and could not stop. He said, "What the bloody hell, Granger?"

"Malfoy, you must have rolled into some thickets. You have about four or five burrs stuck right to your backside!" She continued to laugh.

"Take them off me!" he said, still on his side.

"Pull down your pants," she urged.

He looked back at her and said, "If you want to see me naked, that won't come until date number 30."

"Seriously," she said, swatting his arm. "I have to make sure none of the burrs are sticking to your bum. They could puncture your skin, and cause all sorts of trouble. I'm a professional; I'll use the utmost care. Just removing them from the outside of your pants doesn't mean that there aren't splinters in your skin."

He was so embarrassed. He said, "I'll remove the damn things, turn around."

"Don't be such a baby," she said. He was already standing. He was starting to unbuckle his pants.

"Ouch, oh, ouch," he exclaimed. He said, "Turn around, Granger."

"Let me help you," she said.

"Just turn around," he said. "I'm mortified enough as it is." She turned around and he pulled down his pants. He said, "Granger, I think we have a problem."

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	16. Chapter 16

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**Chapter 16 - **

Draco was humiliated. He had nothing to be ashamed of, that much was certain, and under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have minded if Hermione had seen his bare backside, but the scenario playing out in front of him, heavy snogging, rolling down a hill, burrs in his rear, well, that was unacceptable. Furthermore, she wanted to help him remove the splinters from his backside! "Just turn around," he said. "I'm mortified enough as it is." She turned to face the other way, still sitting on the ground. He turned to face the hill in which they had just rolled down. He pulled down his pants. Heaven help him! He said, "Granger, I think we have a problem."

Still sitting on the ground, with her dress in a right fine shape, she kept her back to him and inquired, "What's wrong?"

He stood behind her, with his trousers around his ankles, and his thumbs hooked in the waist band of his black boxers, ready to pull them down, when he saw Harry 'the wanker' Potter walking down the hill, straight toward them. Harry saw the pair in a compromising position; Draco would have to give him that one, so that must be why Potter suddenly started to run.

"It's Potter! He's headed this way, and he looks angrier than a wet hen," Draco said, trying to pull his pants back up, and wincing in pain. Damn. He decided to go ahead, remove his pants, and at least removed the burrs from the slacks.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled as he ran closer. She turned around, and stood up. "Are you okay?"

She looked down. Her dress was ripped in the front, right along the collar, exposing her bra. Now she was mortified. "Harry?" she said. What must he think?

"I'm going to kill you, Malfoy!" Harry spat, removing his wand from his pocket. He ran to Draco, as he had just removed his shoes and his slacks, and was standing there in nothing but his boxers, socks, shirt and tie.

Draco looked up and said, "Go to Hell, Potter."

"Did he hurt you?" Harry asked, pulling her to stand behind him. He put his wand under Draco's chin.

Draco dropped his pants from his hands and said, "Okay, now you have my attention."

"Harry, stop it. He didn't hurt me. Why would you think he hurt me?" Hermione asked.

Draco thought she was being incredibly naïve. Even he knew what it looked like.

Harry said, "I came to look for you, find you on the ground, in a dreadful shape, grass and twigs in your hair, your dress ripped down the front, and Malfoy putting his pants on, standing over you! I'm sorry if I came to the wrong conclusions, Hermione, but it appeared he molested you or something!"

Hermione actually laughed. She bent at the waist and said, "Oh my, that's so funny, Harry. And, he wasn't putting his pants on, he was taking them off, for goodness sakes."

"Granger," Draco said, with Harry's wand still pointed at his chest, and indeed, now pressing hard into his skin, "You aren't really helping things here. Stop laughing and tell him what happened."

Hermione put her hand on Harry's arm, and slowly pulled his wand away from Draco's chest. "Harry, we fell down the hill. That's why I look as if I was hung up wet and put out to dry, and Draco was removing his pants because he landed in a thicket of burrs."

"Actually, Granger, the thicket of burrs came in contact with my backside before we rolled down the hill. When you decided to jump on me and kiss me senseless, you pushed me back into the thickets."

Hermione glared at him and released Harry's arm, which went back to Draco's chest. "Now you aren't helping matters, Malfoy," Hermione rendered.

"I don't care what's going, just stop it, both of you," Harry said, lowering his wand.

"Stop what?" Hermione asked, confused. Draco decided that while they were talking, he would take care of his 'burr' problem. He used a spell to remove the splinters from his own bum.

"Stop this sickening display! This playful flirting, and this, this, well, this yucky, yucky thing you two are doing. It's making me absolutely sick to my stomach!" Harry blanched.

"Harry James Potter, you are such a hypocrite! First, you say you want me to be happy, and then you tell me that I make you sick! For your information, Malfoy has been a real friend to me today. He's taken my mind off the fact that my former boyfriend cheated on me, and then married the slag he cheated with, and that my best friend knew about it the whole time and never told me a thing!" Hermione shouted.

Draco, who was now 'burr' free, pulled on his pants and said, "What the hell does 'yucky, yucky' mean?"

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry spat, and then turning to Hermione he said, "Listen, I'm sorry I never told you about Pansy and Ron. I couldn't betray his confidence, and deep down, I knew you'd be better off without him."

"Tell her the truth, Potter," Malfoy said, standing close to them, "The truth is that Pansy used to come to the office to meet Weasel, and several times Potter even let them use his house to meet. He more than just didn't tell you, Granger. He encouraged their relationship."

Hermione turned to Draco as he was staring smugly at Harry. He was waiting for her to yell at Harry, so he was shocked when she said, "You knew about Pansy and Ron as well, Draco?"

He looked at her and said, "What?"

"Today, when I told you that Ron started seeing Pansy while we were still dating, you acted shocked, like you had no idea, but that was a lie, you knew the whole time. Did everyone know? Am I the butt of everyone's jokes? Does everyone think I'm just some pitiful fool who was lied to by everyone?" She started to cry.

Draco didn't want her to cry. He wanted her to yell at Harry.

"Good going, Malfoy," Potter said, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

She shoved it off and said, "You're worse than him, Harry."

"Yeah, Potter, you're worse than me," Draco agreed. "Let me tell you why," Draco continued, taking over Hermione's wrath. "You are supposed to be her best friend, and you lied to her, and let everyone think badly about her. Up until today, I wasn't her friend, so who cares if I didn't tell her. I don't think she will ever forgive you." At least that was his fondest hope.

Hermione sat back down on the grass, her back to both men. Harry kneeled down beside her and said, "I'm so, so, sorry, Hermione. I swear I really just didn't want to hurt you. I knew you weren't happy with Ron, and I kept hoping you would break it off with him, before he got a chance to break it off with you. I love you so much, please, forgive me."

She dipped her head lower, and took several deep breaths, to calm her down. She turned to look at Harry and said, "I'm still angry, but I forgive you. I'm angrier with the fact that you think that there's something wrong with my friendship with Malfoy."

He moved to sit down beside her and said, "But, it's Malfoy."

"Harry, he's been so kind today, so sweet, and caring, and incredibly funny. I've had more fun with him in the last eight hours than I've had in the last eight years with Ron. Don't be so negative. If you could accept the fact that Ron was cheating on me, and still be his friend, than shouldn't you still be my friend, just because I've taken up with the lord of darkness?"

"Hey, I'm still here, and I have ears you know, and it's the prince of darkness, thank you," Malfoy said.

Harry smiled and said, "Fine, maybe some of your goodness and sweetness will rub off on old prince over there, and he might turn out to be a halfway decent human being." Harry helped her to stand. He used his wand to repair her dress. He said, "The reason I was looking for you is that as soon as it's completely dark, the Weasleys have fireworks planned. George didn't want you to miss it. He said that he has something planned just for you."

"We'll be right up," Hermione said to Harry. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and then started up the hill.

He turned around and said, "Hey there, Malfoy, if you hurt her, my wand won't be the only thing you'll have to fear." He walked back up the hill.

"Stupid, Scarface," Draco said, more to himself than to anyone else. He turned back to Hermione and said, "You took up for me. Thanks. By the way, I've had more fun in the last eight hours than I've ever had in my entire life, all thanks to you."

She looked at the ground and said, "Well, isn't that a sweet thing to say."

He grabbed her hand and said, "I have my moments."

"You certainly do," she agreed.

"Let's go watch the fireworks," he suggested. He started to pull her up the hill.

"After the fireworks, the party will probably be almost over, because it'll probably die down pretty soon afterwards," she said, randomly, or so he thought.

"I suppose," he uttered his reply.

"Then the day will soon be over," she said sullenly.

"Sure," he said. He was beginning to get the jest of her words. She didn't want the day to end. Neither did Draco. He stopped walking when they reached the top of the hill. He turned to her. The sky was a dusky purple, and the North Star was visible in the clear evening sky. It was twilight, which meant the day was almost at a close. He held both her hands and without words, he pulled her to him, releasing her hands to put his around her waist. She tucked her arms under his, and placed them up on his back.

She kept her head on his chest and whispered, "I feel like a storybook princess, and the clock is about to strike midnight, and my fairytale will soon come to an end."

"We have a good three hours until midnight," he said lightly. "But, I understand. I don't want this to end, either."

They suddenly heard a loud bang, like a cannon exploding. They looked toward the Burrow, and directly over the house, the firework display started. A large red pinwheel exploded, flashing white and blue as it burst open repeatedly. A second firework, larger than the first, and much higher, flashed before them. Hermione buried her face in his chest.

"Don't you like fireworks?" he asked, concerned.

"No, that's not it."

"What is it?" he asked.

She looked up from his chest, set one hand on his cheek, and said, "It's as if these fireworks are exploding from my heart, and they're expressly for you. Does that make sense?"

Funny little thing, Draco thought. "Perfect sense," he said, kissing her forehead. He turned her in his arms, so she had her back to him, and they stood on the hill, and watched the fireworks explode around them.

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	17. Chapter 17

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**Chapter 17 – **

The fireworks were amazing! Red, yellow, green and blue rockets, pinwheels, and Catherine Wheels, shot to the sky, and exploded in the air with a blast of colour, sound and pure joy! Hermione stood with her back to her 'new friend', his arms tight around her middle. This day started out more than she could handle, and was ending to be more than she could hope.

As the barrage continued, and the climax to the show began, a message, in white fireworks, began appearing in the sky. With no words spoken, Draco merely pointed with his hand, and Hermione's sight followed his imaginary line to the sky. There, in bright exploding letters, must have been George's message to her. It read, "H.G. we wish it was thee!"

Hermione found herself smiling, even more so when she felt Draco's nose nuzzle next to her ear, and he whispered, "I'm glad it wasn't."

She was suddenly pensive, as she turned in his arms. "I'm glad it wasn't, as well," she replied.

He drew his index finger down her face, from her temple to her jaw. He leaned in and swiftly took her lips, kissing them feathery soft. After the chaste kiss, so unlike the ones they shared earlier today, but just as wonderful, they stood and stared at each other. Neither wanted to break the spell they were under, each afraid if the other spoke, words would seem inadequate.

"I do love you, you know," Draco declared.

"I love you, too," she answered plainly. As crazy as it was, as unholy their union, as unlikely their pair, she did. She knew in her heart, and in the depths of her soul, that the man before her was the man she loved, and the man she was going to marry someday. It did not make sense, and suddenly, it did not matter.

"What do you want to do?" he finally inquired.

"Right now, or for the rest of my life?" she asked, no longer guarded, and no longer caring who knew it.

"Well, I already know what you're going to be doing the rest of your life, so I actually meant, right now," he smirked.

Her hand went to his face and cupped his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. "What will I be doing the rest of my life, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked.

"I think you know the answer to that, but if not, let me explain," he said, almost out of breath. There, on top of a hill, just a short distance from the Burrow, Draco Malfoy kissed Hermione Granger, as the fireworks around them subsided, but the fireworks inside their brains ignited. He kissed her with furor, passion, and love. He would kiss these lips for the rest of his life, if allowed. When he stopped, he smiled, and thought to himself, 'I'm allowed'.

He took her hand and headed down the hill. The night was enveloping the day, turning it into the type of summer night in which people wrote poems. Draco wished he were a poet right now, and then perhaps he could relay his feelings to her, without appearing as a sap.

When they reached the front garden, he turned, took her in his arms again, and said, "Tell me what's in your heart."

"Blood," she said, not trying to be funny, and not meaning it literally. "Blood that runs warm and red and beats and flows, bringing me life, so that in this life, I can love, and show love, and be loved, by a man, such as yourself."

"Poetic," he laughed.

"Your turn," she said. "Tell me a poem, Draco."

"I think that I shall never see, a poem lovely as a tree…" he started.

She hit his arm and said, "No, prat, tell me a poem about me," and then she laughed.

"If you hit me and call me a prat, I am likely to lose my inspiration," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Fine, here's my poem…I love you, with everything I am, and everything I feel, I feel and am just for you."

"Rather short," she commented.

"As long as yours," he fired back, swatting her bottom, and then running from her.

"It's too late, and I'm too tired to run after you, Malfoy. I'm too old, as well," she said. He started to walk back to her, and she took off toward him in a sprint, closing the gap in no time. She literally knocked him to the ground. Lying on top of him, she collapsed on his body, to kiss him again.

After the kiss, she raised herself up on her arms and said, "I can't remember a day when I've spent more time on the ground." She rolled off him and sat beside his still supine body. He reached his hand up her back, gliding softly up her spine, causing a chill to her nerve endings, even in the warmth of the summer night. He ended his trek at her neck, to massage it lightly. She turned her head and looked down at him.

"What happens after tonight?" she asked. She leaned down on her side, taking his hand in one of hers, the other holding up her neck. He mirrored her movements.

"We carry on, we don't forget, and we continue. We go out like normal people, we have quiet days at home, we have passion filled nights, and lazy afternoons. We spend every spare moment together, and even when we're apart, we do nothing but think of the other," he answered.

"Wow, I thought you would say you didn't know," she gasped lightly.

"Why would I lie? I know what will happen after tonight, and you should as well," he said, bringing her hand to his mouth, kissing each folded finger lightly.

She fell over on her back and said, "Isn't it a beautiful night?"

"Yes, it's a beautiful night," he agreed, lying beside her. With her knees bent, her dress rode slightly up her thighs. He took one finger and traced circles up and down her bare leg. He inched up higher and higher. He took a quick look at her face, and she was staring right at him, with a funny little smile on her graceful, red lips.

"What?" he asked his hand moving higher.

"What do you think you're doing?" she glared.

"Accosting you," he declared. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and then her neck. His hand went as far up as he dared. Her dress was up so far, it was almost indecent. He moved his hand to the outside of the fabric, and placed it lightly on her stomach. He deepened the kiss, twirling his tongue around hers. She hummed, followed by a low moan from Draco, as he took the kiss as far as a kiss could go, and still be JUST a kiss. He was practically on top of her, and he placed his leg over her body.

She pushed him off, and he sighed deeply. "Hermione, this is our 32nd date, I think I should be able to do more than just cop a feel."

She laughed and sat up. "How in the world did we jump from date 25 to 32? In a matter of 30 minutes?"

He sat up as well. "Okay, date one through ten, I think we can agree, were the first two hours of the day. We had fun, we laughed, and we became acquainted with each other; we flirted, and stole a couple of innocent kisses. From 3pm to 4pm, we started to talk seriously about what we each wanted. That was dates 11 to 14. Dates 15 to 20 went by in a blur, for we danced, joked, relaxed in each other's company. We teased each other without fear of reproach. We were comfortable enough with the other that if we passed gas, all we would have done is laughed, instead of running and hiding."

She interrupted, "Neither of us passed gas."

"That we know of," he said, pointing at her.

"Come on, stop that," she reprimanded.

"Fine, we didn't, but we could have and not been embarrassed. Where was I?" he wondered.

"Dates 20 to 25," she reminded.

"Oh, of course, those dates took place from the time I felt you up on the dance floor to the fall down the hill, to the fireworks," he amended.

"I follow you so far, but the fireworks just ended. If that was date 25, how are we on 32?" she reasoned.

"26 – I declared my love for you, 27 – you declared your love for me, and how shameful of you to make me wait one whole date to tell me you loved me back, 28 – we dreamt of a future together, 29 – we talked about that future together, 30 to 31, we groped in public, so now it's 32," he finished.

"You're pushing some of those things, but still, 32? Really?" she asked.

He suddenly said, "I have never in my life dated someone 32 times without having sex of some kind."

"Sex of some kind?" she bartered.

"Yes, you know, there are different kinds of sex," he said lightly, his mouth up on one side.

"I don't need a sex education lesson from you, Malfoy," she said, "Anyway, if and when, we have sex, there will only be one kind."

He frowned and said, "Really?" He seemed disappointed.

"Yes," she said back.

"What kind?" He seemed slightly annoyed.

"The only kind that's acceptable between us. Making love. That's the only type of sex I will ever share with you. No shagging, no sex, no afternoon delight, no fringe benefits, no sir. None of those terms will apply. We shall never have sex." She stood up. "We will only make love, is that agreeable with you?"

"If I say yes, is this a verbal contract?" he asked, standing as well.

"It might as well be," she said.

"No taking it back?" he asked.

"Never." She shook her head. He took her hand and pulled her to him.

"Then, Hermione let me agree to your terms. When, no if, but when, we do commence with the copulation portion of this relationship, nothing but 'making love' will do for us," he agreed.

He wanted to test that theory right there on the front garden, but he was afraid that would break their verbal contract, and might be construed as 'shagging' instead of making love. He walked next to her back to the house. They entered the garden gate, as most of the reception guests were leaving.

She frowned and said, "Is the party over, do you think?"

"Not for us," he said lightly.

They walked in the house, and George was helping his mother clean up in the kitchen. He approached the pair and said, "Did you see my message, Granger?"

"Yes, George. Thank you, but you know, just because Ron and I didn't work out, doesn't mean you can get rid of me that easily," she reminded him.

"Yes, well, when you marry this git," George said, pointing to Malfoy, "you might whistle a different tune."

She giggled and said, "No one is marrying anyone, George." She lightly slapped his arm. She turned smiling to Draco, and he was frowning.

He said, "Excuse me, while I use the facilities." He walked up the stairs.

Did she say the wrong thing? She walked up the stairs, and waited for him outside the bathroom door, just as he did for her earlier. She would explain to him that she was just joking. She didn't mean anything. Nevertheless, even he had to admit, it was a bit early to talk of marriage. This whole thing was on fast forward, but that didn't mean marriage was going to be considered anytime soon. Not even after 32 _real _dates.

She waited forever for him to come out of the bathroom. Finally, she knocked on the door. There was no answer. She tried the handle. The door wasn't locked. She walked in and there was no Draco in sight. She even pulled back the shower curtain and looked in the tub. She felt very sad and alone, all of the sudden. She rubbed her temples, and went to splash water on her face. Fine, if he wanted to leave like that, and not tell her goodbye, just because his feelings were hurt, well, let him go, because its better that she found out what he was like now, instead of after really dating him a while.

She finished up in the bathroom, and examined her face in the mirror. "You're a fool, Hermione Granger," she said aloud to herself. "You were a fool to let Draco go, but even a bigger one to let him in your heart." She felt like crying, once again, so she did. She started to cry and could not stop. Soon, sobs were racking her entire body, and she sunk to the floor of the bathroom.

From outside in a tree, right by the opened bathroom window, where Draco had apparated to when he heard Hermione enter the bathroom, he heard her crying. He had even heard her declaration. Sure, his feelings were hurt just a wee, little bit by the marriage comment she made to George, but he wasn't seriously angry. He thought it would be fun to hide from her, because he knew she would come up to try to find him. However, he didn't count on Hermione thinking he really left.

Each tear that escaped her eye, and each sob that escaped her lips, broke his resolve, as well as his heart. He apparated right back in the bathroom, picked her up off the floor, and with her in his arms, he apparated back outside, to the roof.

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	18. Chapter 18

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**Chapter 18 - **

It broke his heart to hear her cry. To be truthful, that was the real reason he sought her out today. She looked on the verge of tears during the entire ceremony, and something about her raw emotions touched him deep inside. Then, when he entered the chapel to see if she was still there, and he saw tears rolling down her face, that same emotion that she had awakened in him erupted and overflowed. As odd as it sounded, that was when he realized he loved her. Strange. He even thought so.

He apparated back to the bathroom, and picked her up from the floor. Silly little thing that she was, she didn't even look up to see who was holding her in their arms. He disapparated with her to the only place her knew they could truly be alone, without leaving the Burrow completely…to the roof.

He held her tightly in his arms, and sat down on the shale shingles, the slope steep under their reclining bodies. He held her over his legs, across his lap, and stroked her cheek. His hand was soon wet with her tears.

"Why the tears, Hermione? Have you finally realized that your dress is ruined, and you're mourning its loss?" he joked.

"No," she answered meekly.

"Are you crying because you realized that I had a bigger piece of cake then you did, earlier?"

She looked up at him and said, "Are you daft?"

"Are you crying because you stubbed your toe?" He was running out of inane things to say.

"Yes, Malfoy, I am crying because I stubbed my toe," she said sarcastically. She sniffed twice and then looked up from where her head was previously hiding in his chest. "Where are we?" she asked.

"The roof," he answered calmly.

She shook with fear, and grabbed his arms tightly, her fingers digging in his forearms. "Why are we on the roof?" she asked, closing her eyes.

"I needed to be alone with you," he said, thinking it was obvious.

"And of all the vast places we have been alone today, the only place you could think of was the roof?" she asked, terror filling her voice.

"Tell me, why are you afraid of heights?" he asked.

"Why are you crazy?" she asked.

"Mine's a real question," he said, bemused by her antics.

"Please, take me away from here!" She closed her eyes, and clutched him closer.

"I don't believe I will," he answered. "I rather like you like this, close to me and terrified. It makes me feel manly."

"You won't feel so manly when I castrate you!" she warned, with her eyes still shut.

He laughed and said, "Your threat might be more menacing if you didn't have your eyes shut in fear. Now, we are getting off track. Why were you crying in the bathroom?"

"Oh, Draco, I don't know, I don't even give a ruddy care right now! Please, please, I beg of you, take me down from this roof!" she whined. She opened her eyes, and looked at him right in the eyes.

"If I do, do you promise to name your firstborn after me?" he asked.

"Are you drunk, AND insane?" she asked.

"I like this rather asinine side of you," he said, grinning.

"PLEASE!" she almost screamed.

"Is that the way you sound when you're in the throes of passion?" he asked.

"If you keep playing games, and don't let me down from here, you will never know!" she shouted.

"Funny little Gryffindor," he said, hugging her tight. "You're a witch, take yourself down from here."

She felt so stupid. "Oh, yeah."

He laughed again and said, "Before you leave me, please, tell me why you were crying in the bathroom."

"How did you know I was crying?" she asked.

"I was hiding outside the window, in a tree," he said.

"Now I know you must be drunk, or suffering from lunacy," she declared. "Why were you in a tree?"

"To be truthful, you did hurt my feelings just a tad, with your little, 'I wouldn't marry Malfoy if he were the last man on earth', comment, so I hid from you, to scare you a bit, because I knew you would come to look for me. I wanted you to sweat for a moment. I was just playing around. I apologize," he declared.

"I apologize as well, although I don't think I said anything about not marrying you even if you were the last man on earth. If you were the last man on earth, I would probably marry you," she said, slyly.

"How sweet," he said, with fake disdain. "I told you my truth, now you tell me yours. Why were you crying?" He held her tighter, and nuzzled his nose to her neck.

"I felt stupid, because I thought I exposed myself to you today, and it scared you off, and you left me. Stupid, I know, but I felt a bit insecure, after everything that happened with Ron and me," she stated.

"Very stupid," he agreed, kissing her exposed neck. She relaxed in his arms. She sighed in contentment. He said, "You do still realize we're on the roof, don't you?"

"Are we? I feel so safe in your arms, that I forgot," she realized, adding, "just don't say anything dense for a while. I know that will be difficult for you."

"Ha! Granger thinks she's funny!" Draco lauded. He didn't care. She was smart, funny, beautiful, and everything in between. She could make fun of him all she wanted.

"May I ask you a question, now?" she asked, moving off his lap, and settling between his legs. He kept his arms around her body, as she relaxed her back into his chest. She leaned her head back on his shoulder, and looked intently at his face.

"I'm an open book, ready for you to read. Ask me anything," he stated.

"How do you know what you feel for me is real? How do you know you won't wake up tomorrow, and question your sanity?"

"Hell, Granger, I wake up every morning, questioning my sanity, but the truth is, tomorrow morning, when I wake up, and look at your beautiful face, as you lie beside me, I will feel the exact same thing that I feel at this moment," he said.

"Now you're the funny one," she said.

"How so?"

"You're funny, because you actually think that you're going to wake up beside me," she said.

"Where else will I be tomorrow morning?" he asked, seriously.

"We aren't sleeping together tonight," she said, stiffening in his arms.

He knew he must choose his next words wisely. "Yes we will," he said. Okay, he was never that wise.

She turned slightly to look at him and said, "No, no we won't."

"I beg to differ."

"I beg to agree."

"Well, you're wrong," he said.

"No, you're delusional," she argued. She forgot she was on the roof, and tried to stand up, but he grabbed her hand and sat her back down.

"Why won't we be sleeping together tonight?" He seriously wanted to know.

"I know you have this big date theory, and you think you're in love with me, and I know that I'm in love you, but I can't just hop into bed with you. I'm not programmed that way. I don't sleep with men after one date, if this day together even counts as one date." She looked away from him. He pulled her back toward his chest, and put his arms back around her as tightly as before.

"First, you have a point, for we really don't know each other as well as I thought, because you have just insulted me, and at the moment, I'm no longer playing games, or having fun at your expense. I am truly hurt, and the only reason I'm holding you this tightly, is to fight the urge to throw you off this roof," he said, seriously. He had not uttered a more serious statement all day long.

"What? What have I done? What have I said?" she asked, not looking at him. Her hands went to his, which were clasped together around her waist.

"How dare you say that I merely 'think' I'm in love with you, and in the next breath, say that you know you're in love with me? Why do you question my feelings, but feel so damn self-righteous to spout off your own?" he asked.

She felt somewhat ashamed, for he had a point. She turned her head to look at him again and said, "You're right. Damn, Malfoy. You are so right." She hung her head, shaking it, and said, "Why do you have to be right?"

"It's a gift," he said. He felt the mood lighten immediately. "Shall we get down from the roof now?"

"I don't know, I kind of like it up here," she said.

"Now I think you are the crazy one," he remarked, kissing her cheek, and running small kisses to her jaw, and then behind her ear. She closed her eyes, and relaxed against him. "May I make one more comment, before we go down?"

"Sure," she said, opening her eyes.

"If you seriously don't want to sleep with me tonight, that's fine, but I won't wait long," he said.

"Ultimatums?" she asked.

"No. Fact," he remarked, bringing one hand up from around her waist, putting it under her chin, leaning her face back toward his, and kissing her quite soundly.

When their lips parted, she said, "What if I don't agree? Are you going to leave me?"

"I will never leave you," he stated, "no, I will just get you drunk and take advantage of you." She frowned. He said, "So very gullible. I swear I shall enjoy making fun of you for the rest of my days." He kissed her cheek and said, "It's late. Should we leave?"

"The roof, or the reception?" she asked.

"Either," he said, "or both."

"Sure, let's get off this god-forsaken roof. We should go say goodbye to our hosts, and I want to find Harry. I have to thank him for something," she said. He stood up, and pulled her to stand beside him. She closed her eyes again. Standing was scarier than sitting.

He asked, "Why do you owe Pot-head a thank you?"

She opened her eyes, and put her hands around his neck. "He convinced me to come to the wedding today. He said I needed closure. He was right about one thing, and wrong about the other. He was right to make me come, for if I hadn't, I wouldn't have found you. He was wrong about one other thing. I didn't need closure. I already had closure with Ron. What I needed was a new beginning, and with you, I've found just that."

He smiled as he hugged her tight, and in that moment, he made a life changing decision. He just decided that he was going to marry this little witch, even if he had to wait a year, or more. He was never going to let her go. She leaned back from the hug and said, "What do you think about that?"

"I think that I'm going to marry you someday, Granger."

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	19. Chapter 19

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**Chapter 19 - **

Hermione's head was reeling, which was not a good thing, considering that she was up on the roof. He just said he was going to marry her someday. Merlin, help her.

"Granger?" he asked. She stood in his arms, wide eyed, mouth opened, and seemingly unresponsive.

"Granger!" he said, more firmly. She seemed to be in a trance of some sort. He was almost ready to take her to St. Mungo's, when she shook her head, looked at him, and smiled. "Alright there, girl?" he asked, smiling at her.

"You said you are going to marry me someday," she clarified.

"Did I? I don't recall," he smirked. Her brows knitted together and a frown replaced her smile. "Oh, Granger, you are the sweetest little thing. Of course, I said that. It's what's going to happen, and since it concerns you, I thought you ought to know."

Without further ado, he apparated them both to the kitchen. It was empty this time. Hermione left his arms and looked around. "I wonder where everyone is?" she asked. "Draco, what time is it?"

"Give me a kiss, and I'll tell you," he said.

"The time cost a kiss?" she asked.

"Everything cost something, just be thankful you didn't ask the date as well, or I would be demanding something much more," he said, jokingly.

She shook her head and said, "Seriously." She walked over to him, grabbed his wrist and looked at his watch. It was 10:30 pm. She kept his wrist in her grasp, and pulled him toward the backdoor. Outside, around one large round table, sat Harry and the entire Weasley family, sans Ron and the little woman. She stopped at the screen door, and Draco stood behind her, watching the scene out back. Everyone was laughing and reminiscing. Hermione felt a pang of jealousy, for this was the family she always wanted, and now she would never have.

Draco put his head on her shoulder, and said in her ear, "What's wrong, Hermione?"

"Look at them."

"Okay, what do I see? Just tell me, please." He positioned his arms around her waist.

"You see what I will never be a part of again, and it makes me sad," she said softly.

"I thought you said you were over Ron," he hesitantly asked.

"I am," she confirmed, as she put her hands up on the mesh wire of the screen, "but I will never be over them." She felt very sad and suddenly insignificant.

Charlie Weasley approached the door, and he opened it so suddenly, that Hermione and Draco both jumped backwards. "Sorry you two, but Mum just sent me to look for you. She was sure you had not left without saying goodbye. Come on, we're having a good laugh, sitting around the table." He took Hermione's hand, she took Draco's, and they walked over to the table. There were only two chairs left. Charlie took one, and Hermione went to grab one from another table, when Draco abruptly took her hand, and sat down, dragging her onto his lap. This time, even with her pseudo family around her, she was not self-conscious of Draco's actions. It felt right.

"You look peevish, dear," Mrs. Weasley said to Hermione from across the table. "Are you tired? Perhaps you got too much sun today."

Bill laughed and said, "I think she got too much exercise today."

Everyone laughed, and she blushed and hung her head.

"She was running after this git most of the day," George said, laughing again, and pointing at Draco with his thumb.

Mr. Weasley said, "Are you coming over for Sunday dinner tomorrow, Hermione?"

"Am I still invited to the Sunday dinners?" she asked, quite seriously.

Everyone at the table looked at each other, in shock and confusion. "Of course you are, dear, why wouldn't you be?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Now you'll have Pansy," she said. Everyone at the table blanched, making either choking sounds or coughing.

"Pansy!" Ginny said, aghast. "For goodness sakes, Hermione, just because my brother was a right fool and gave up a good thing like you for that pug faced, pureblood, doesn't mean that you aren't still a part of this family. You've been a part of this family almost as long as I have been!"

She felt Draco's arms tighten around her, and he bent his head and kissed her arm. "See," he said.

"You may invite Draco to dinner, if you wish, sweetheart," Mrs. Weasley said. That having been said, they all went on to another subject. She sat there, not listening, but in awe of this family, whom she had loved since she was 12 years old.

"Alright there, Granger?" Draco asked her, just as he had asked her earlier. She turned slightly on his legs to look at him.

She said, "This is all turning out better than I could have hoped. I get the Weasleys and you." She didn't say it to be funny. It was what she really thought, and that made Draco smile for the millionth time that day.

He put his hand on her cheek and said, "No, you get me and the Weasleys. I should be named first, and they're second."

Ignoring all the loud conversation, and the laughter from the table, and also not aware that George had placed a wine glass in her hand, she said, "You know, I know my parents will adore you, and supposedly the Weasleys are fine with you, which makes me wonder, what will your parents think of me?"

He took her wine glass from her hand, and took a large gulp. He gave it back and cleared his throat. He was stalling. Of course, his parents would not take kindly to Granger. Of course, they would not approve. She was Muggle-born and he was pureblood. Even in a world that no longer contained the evilness of Voldemort, things like that mattered to people like Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. His quietness made her turn back toward the table. She took her glass, the one that had just touched his lips, and she took a large drink. She already knew the answer.

Draco decided not to answer. He knew that she knew the answer to her question before she asked. He took his own wine glass, and chugged it down in one movement. He placed the empty glass back down, and placed one hand on her back, as she was now leaning forward, head on her arms on the table. "Are you tired, Hermione?" Harry asked next to her. He saw Draco running his hand up and down her back and he realized at that moment that he must really care for his friend. Harry reached over and stroked her hair away from her face.

"Yes, I am tired. It's been a long day today, and I've drunk too much today, and run around too much today," she plainly said.

He leaned closer to her and kissed her cheek. He stood and waved his wand, and music started. Although the band had left, as well as the other guests, Harry was not ready to let the party end, not yet. "Dance with your old friend, Hermione." He took her hand and guided her off Draco's lap.

"I'm too tired," she said to him. He ignored her and took her to the empty dance floor.

"I'll hold you up, if you should fall," he said, graciously. All eyes were upon them. However, no one could hear them, as they were speaking in whispers. "Does he make you happy, Hermione?" Harry finally asked, holding her close as they danced.

"Yes, he does," she answered softly.

"Do you think you might love him?" he asked.

"I know I do," she said slowly. It was scary admitting these things to him, and so soon.

"Do you envision a future with him?" he asked. He stopped swaying to the music. He put one hand on her cheek.

She looked in his emerald green eyes, and said, "Yes."

"Good. I want you to be happy," Harry said, moving again. "Ron would not have made you happy, not in the long run. You need someone with as much fire in his belly as you have. Someone who can be passionate about things and not compliant, someone who will challenge your mind, and question your beliefs. Someone to whom you will not grow easily bored. I may have been a rotten friend when I didn't tell you about Ron and Pansy, but in the long run, I knew it was for your own good, even if you didn't."

"You still should have told me," she said.

"Perhaps, but I recall you doing a lot of things for me throughout my life, without telling me, because in the long run it was for the greater good," Harry said.

"That was different. You were saving the whole wizarding world, and someone had to keep you on track, in spite of yourself." She grinned.

"No difference, not really," he explained, "for this time I may not have been saving the whole wizarding world, but I was saving the second most important person in my life, after my wife." He kissed her cheek and said, "I think I will dance with my wife now."

"Leaving me on the dance floor?" Hermione asked, raising her brows.

"No, Draco's right behind us, ready to take you any moment," Harry answered. He handed her hand to Draco and said, "Here you go, Draco. Be good to her, or answer to all of us."

"Yes, yes, Potter, I'm so scared, I'm shaking in my proverbial shoes," Draco said, smiling. He took Hermione's hand, pulled her to him, and then turned around and said to Harry, "Potter, thanks. I will always take good care of her, I promise."

Harry nodded. Further words would have seemed inadequate.

Draco positioned his hands on her back, as she rested her head on his shoulder. He said, "I don't want this day to end."

"I don't either," she admitted.

"No other day in my life compares to this," he said.

"I know," was all she could say in return.

"I won't ever hurt you," he said.

The seriousness of his countenance suddenly alarmed her. She looked up at him and said, "No jokes, Malfoy? All seriousness and sincerity. I know you'll not hurt me. I'll not hurt you, either. Don't worry."

He threw his head back and laughed. "You tell me not to worry! You? The queen of worriers? Priceless, Granger, absolutely priceless."

"I'll worry enough for both of us," she said.

"I'm sure you will," he returned, the knuckles of his right hand moved down her arm, sending her chills. "Cold?" he smirked when she shivered.

"Not particularly, you prat," she answered.

"Excited?' he asked, with a lopsided grin.

"Perhaps," she answered. He wanted to see what other responses he could make her body reveal. His lips lightly brushed her cheek, his breath warm on her face. His hands sprawled out on her back, pressing her to his hard muscles. Her body was so soft, her skin, like silk. His mouth went to her neck, were he sucked lightly, darting his tongue out for a moment, to taste the skin he had just been admiring. Her hands went to his neck, and she pressed her body even closer. Oh, to be rid of the Weasleys, and to have her all alone…a man could dream.

"Your body betrays you, Hermione," Draco finally said. "I think it wants to sleep with me tonight. Listen to your body. It will never lie to you."

"I would rather listen to my head," she said, playfully.

"Why, your heart is smarter," he said back.

"Is it?"

"Of course, it is," he said, left hand still on her back, and his right hand coming around to rest on her neck. "Your heart wants what your brain is fighting against. Listen to your heart." He placed his hand on her chest. Her heart was beating fast. He placed his lips on hers, and said, right on her mouth, so that each word felt almost like a kiss, "listen…to…your… heart." He pressed his mouth firmly on hers, his right hand trapped between their bodies, still on her chest.

She leaned away, arching her back away from him, which only pressed her lower body closer. She was driving him mad. "My head says run away, and my heart is saying, stay, stay, stay. I'm conflicted."

"I don't want you to be conflicted, just be truthful, honest." He caressed her cheek.

"I want to make love to you, that is the honest truth," she finally said. He looked at her, trying to figure out if what he had just heard was what he had just heard.

"Don't play with my emotions," he said. This made her laugh for some reason.

"I'm serious," she said.

"For god's sakes, why are we just standing here then?" he asked. He took her hand and led her off the dance floor.

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	20. Chapter 20

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**Chapter 20 - **

Draco was leading Hermione off the dance floor, to places unknown, when she literally skidded to a halt. He turned, still pulling her arm, and said, "Come on!"

She was laughing and said, "Where are we going?"

"I don't care, just as long as I can get my groove on," he said, laughing as well.

"What the hell?" she said. She bent over and laughed harder than she had all day.

He was giddy as well. "Fine, anywhere were we can go to 'Funky town'."

She now had fallen over to a nearby chair, and was laughing so hard she was wheezing. He was trying hard not to laugh, but her laughter was contagious. He kneeled down beside her chair, and put his arms on her knees. She said, "I have laughed more today than I have in ages."

"You and I having sex is really not a laughing matter," he said, smiling at her. He tickled the underside of her knee, and she kicked at him, knocking him over. She reached down for his hand, but he refused to take it. He sat on the ground and said, "No dignity, I swear."

Bill Weasley walked by and asked, "How much have you two had to drink today?"

Hermione shook her head, held up three fingers and said, "Four drinks." She was playing around, and Draco for one thought she was hilarious, so he laughed at her little joke.

She bent her head down to look at Draco and said, "How much have you had, Donald?"

Playing along, he said, "Not very many, whatever your name is. Now, would you stop this damn ride from spinning? I want to get off now." She laughed so hard she snorted.

"Mum," Bill yelled, "You're right." He walked away.

Draco pulled Hermione off the chair, onto the ground next to him and she said, "I wonder what she was right about?"

"Maybe they were taking bets how long it would take for us to have sex?" Draco said.

"Malfoy," Hermione chastised. "Remember our conversation from earlier? NO SEX! Just making love."

He thought she was so sweet. He touched her face with his index finger and said, "Of course. Now, let's go have sex." He pulled her over and she landed on top of him.

Harry walked up to the pair and said, "What are you two doing on the ground?"

"Having sex, Potter," Draco said.

"For goodness sakes," Hermione said, slapping Draco's chest. She struggled to stand, as he was still groping her. She kept slapping his hands, and he started slapping hers as well. Harry finally reached down and helped her up.

"Mrs. Weasley told me to tell you both that you must spend the night, for she doesn't want you apparating home, drunk," Harry said. Draco finally stood beside them.

"Harry," Hermione chastised, "We aren't drunk. We were just acting silly, and pulling Bill's leg."

"Tell the truth," Draco said, "We are drunk, Potter. We are drunk on love." He laughed again.

Hermione gave him a strange look and added, "Okay, maybe he is drunk, but I'm not, seriously. I don't need to stay the night."

"Yeah, Potter, we aren't spending the night," Draco said, putting his arm around Hermione and kissing her cheek.

"Whatever, Malfoy. You may leave if you wish. If you split yourself to pieces disapparating while drunk, then so be it, but Hermione's spending the night," Harry decided. He turned to Hermione and said, "There's plenty of room, and we're all getting up early tomorrow, having a big breakfast, and a fun game of Quidditch, just like old times. It'll be fun. There's tons of room, so just don't argue. You are spending the night." Harry kissed her cheek and went back over to the large table.

Hermione sat back down on the chair and said, "Well, your antics are to blame, Malfoy. No sex for you tonight, because I have to spend the night here."

"NOOOO!" he whined. She smiled. He sat on her lap. She grimaced, but put her arms around his waist. "Then, I shall stay as well."

"Whatever you want, Malfoy, but we can't do anything in this house, okay. Anyway, I think maybe you did have too much to drink," she said.

He looked down at her and said, "I told you, I'm drunk on love."

"No, you're fat. Get off my lap, please," she said.

He put his arms around her neck and said, "I'm not fat, Granger."

"You're pleasantly plump," she smiled. He got off her lap and pulled her up from her chair. "I would like it if you did stay tonight, though. It will be fun. Maybe we could spend the whole night talking."

He scowled and said, "I've talked to you enough today. I want some quality snogging time, at least, if I don't get sex."

"If I promise you I'll snog a while, will you spend the night with me tonight, here, at the Weasley's, but just talking, and maybe falling asleep in each other's arms?" She suddenly felt embarrassed, so she looked down at the ground.

He came up to her, took her hands, and said, "What a capital idea. Why didn't we think of it before? I would love to spend the night with you, talking, and holding you tight, all night long." He bent his head, to look into her downcast eyes. "Is that a plan?"

She looked up and said, "A wonderful plan. The best plan ever."

"No, the best plan ever would be to have sex, but this will be the second best plan," he revised. He took her hand and started walking with her toward a rope swing, which was on a tree, out in the back garden. "Let's go have fun, Hermione, while the night's still young."

"It must be after 11pm, so the night is old, and I don't swing that way, Malfoy," she joked, pointing to the swing. He continued walking her toward the swing, and sat down. He pulled her to sit as well, on his lap. "I don't think this old swing will hold us both. The ropes look pretty frayed, and the board is pretty weathered," she said. He ignored her and they started swinging. "Seriously, Malfoy, you already had burrs in your bum tonight, do you want splinters from the board as well?" He didn't respond with words, he merely swung them higher. She put her hand on the rope above his. He had to lean back farther than normal, so she wouldn't slide off.

He whispered in her ear, "How high shall we go, Granger?"

"As high as you dare," she said, breathing hard. He slowed the swing down, to a complete halt.

"That's not fun," she said, turning her head to look at him.

"This is as high as a dare, with you. I don't ever want to do anything to hurt you, physically or otherwise. I won't take chances with you. I'm playing it safe, from now on," he said, quite seriously.

"Where's the fun in that?" she said.

"Oh, I plan to have plenty of fun with you, don't you worry," he said. He put his arms tight around her waist, and kissed her ear. He said softly, "I won't risk losing you, Granger."

"I'm glad," she said, no longer looking at him. He started walking the swing forward and backwards, just minuscule movements, as he continued to kiss her neck, moving his lips to her collarbone, and her shoulder. He reached his hand up across her chest, and held her neck, pushing her face back to him, so that her head lay back on his shoulder. He kissed her cheek, and then her mouth. "That's nice," she said, when he removed his mouth.

"I thought so," he said smoothly.

She moved slightly on his lap, so she could look at him better, and as soon as she turned, the ropes on the swing gave away, and they both came down on the cold, hard ground with a resounding thud.

Silence ensued for a second, and then Draco started to laugh, and Hermione, though shocked as she was, joined in.

"I told you that you were fat," Hermione said, trying to get off him. He was on his back, and she had turned to face him. She placed her hands on each side, and pressed upward to try to stand. He put his arms on her back, so she couldn't move.

"Where are you going?" He grinned.

"I'm starting to get chilly," she said. "I want to go borrow a sweater from Mrs. Weasley."

He said, "Absolutely not. I refuse to hug you in an old lady sweater." She hit his chest, and made to get off him, accidentally kneeing his groin on her way to standing.

"OWW!" he exclaimed, holding his crotch.

Hermione kneeled back to the ground and said, "Oh goodness, I'm so sorry. Did that hurt?" She reached down to remove his hands.

"Watch your hands, Granger! And, yes, that hurt," he said, smacking her hands away with one of his, the other still holding his damaged goods. She winced and mouthed, 'sorry'. He said, "I already told you that I was up for just snogging and cuddling tonight. You didn't have to put me out of commission altogether."

He sat up, still protecting himself, and she asked, "Do you need some ice?"

He said, "Maybe if you just massage it for a while, it will come around."

She giggled and said, "I'm sure it would. No dice, though, Malfoy, just ice." She started to stand up to get some ice but he stopped her, by grabbing her wrist. She sat back down beside him.

"You might have permanently damaged me, Granger," he whined. She took her wrist from his hand and touched his hair.

She leaned over and kissed his lips and said, "There, does that make you feel better?"

He smirked and said, "I thought you were supposed to kiss the injured body part." He smiled widely.

"Old wife's tale," she said. She stroked his hair again and said, "You have the softest hair."

"You have the prettiest eyes," he said back, suddenly recovered. He touched her face.

"You're the one with the pretty eyes. They're an amazing shade of grey. I've never seen another person with your colour of eyes," she said back, settling down next to him. Their positions on the ground were such that they were facing each other, with their legs pointed in opposite directions. They were quite close, and unconscious of the fact that they each were tentatively touching the other, here, there, and everywhere.

"You have an amazing mouth. Soft, smooth, and very kissable," he said, leaning over to demonstrate, he kissed her softly, and quickly.

"You have an incredible smile," she said. She outlined his lips. "Even in the darkness of the night, your smile is bright and booming."

"How about your beautiful face?" he asked. He took his finger, slowly tracing it from one temple, across her forehead, to the other temple, down to her chin. He kissed her chin.

"Speaking of beautiful, you are the most beautiful man I've ever seen," she said sincerely. He smiled at her.

"Are men beautiful?" he asked.

"You are," she responded. She put both hands on his face, and kissed his right cheek, then his left, then his mouth.

He took her hands from his face, and held them in his. He looked at her hands, palm side up and said, "I can't believe this day is real."

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	21. Chapter 21

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**Chapter 21 - **

"I can't believe this day is real," he said, holding her hands, palm side up, to his face. He kissed one palm, then the other. He released her left hand, but held tight to the right one. "Let's go up to the house, and get you my jacket, since you're cold." They walked back to the partygoers, who by now were dwindling in numbers. Mr. Weasley sat in a nearby chair, with his feet in another, snoring away loudly. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were cleaning up in the kitchen. Bill and his family had gone home. Charlie and George were stacking chairs, with magic, but of course, and Percy was carrying loads of food into the house.

"Looks like the party's over," Hermione said, solemnly.

"Yeah, it does," he agreed. He went over to the chair in which he placed his jacket when they first arrived at the house and he said, "Do you still need my jacket?"

"No, let's just go inside," she said.

Harry was inside, listening to the wireless. He had already changed out of his tuxedo, and was in jeans and a t-shirt. He saw the two pass through the kitchen, as they made their way to the living room. Draco threw his jacket over a footstool, and stood by the fireplace, feeling somewhat out of place. Harry patted the place by him, on the couch, and said, "Come, join me Hermione."

She looked over at Draco, awkward as he was, and said, "I think I'll go out to the front porch for a while, Draco, are you coming?" He picked up his jacket, and put it over her arms. He smiled and grabbed her hand. They walked out the front door, letting the screen door swing shut with a squeak and a bang.

Hermione leaned on the porch railing. He sat on the railing beside her. She moved so she was between his legs. He put his arms around her shoulders. She playfully acted as if she was going to push him off, so he playfully held her tight.

Once he righted himself, he pulled her close, and she hugged his chest. Words seemed useless, and not at all needed, as she rested her cheek next to his heart, and he kissed her hair. Seriously, had they only been 'close' to each other for a little over ten hours? It felt like a lifetime.

She shut her eyes, and refused to open them, in case he disappeared. He looked down at her face and said, "Are you sleepy?"

"Not at all," she answered.

"Really?"

"Okay, a bit." She opened her eyes and grinned. "I like your jacket. It smells like you."

"Are you saying I smell?" He grimaced, hopped off the railing, but kept her in his arms.

"I didn't say it was a bad smell." She lingered, sniffing the actual person. She shut her eyes once again, as he swayed back and forth with her. "You have many hidden qualities, which were only revealed to me today."

"Do tell," he said, pushing her from him slightly. This time, she moved so she was sitting on the railing. She held tight to his shoulders for support.

"Okay, for one thing, I didn't know you had such a wonderful sense of humour," she said.

"I'm a virtual comedian," he deadpanned.

She smiled and said, "Also, I didn't know you could be so thoughtful, and so charming."

Draco said, "I admit, those are two of my favourite qualities about myself."

"Then there's your humility," she joked.

"Humble to a fault," he said.

"You're good looking," she said.

"You should have always known that," he quipped.

"You're smart," she added.

"The sexiest part of a man is his mind," he said, choking on his own words. "Sorry, I almost couldn't get that one out with a straight face."

"You're helpful and kind," she said, softly.

"Those are easy things to be, to you at least," he said, bending his head slightly to capture her lips in a swift kiss. "What else, Hermione?"

She leaned forward, and rested her entire weight on his body. Her arms wrapped tight around his neck, as he pressed closer, so that her legs slightly parted, and his body rested against the wooden balustrade, and against her chest. Their cheeks touched. She could stay in the soft recesses of his embrace for the rest of her life. He asked again, "Is there anything else, Hermione?"

"This. Just this. Being close to you, held by you, embraced by you, and loved by you. I have never felt safer in my entire life, than I feel the moment your arms go around my body. You are the only reason I've made it through this day, Draco Malfoy, and I thank you, from the bottom of my heart." She moved her face away from his, to see his expression. He was not smiling. What did that mean?

She started to ask him, when his lips assaulted hers with a fury that she had yet to yield to all day. He kissed her with more passion than she knew existed. He entered her with his tongue, as his hands went to her mass of hair. Her hands went from his shoulders to his chest. His hands went from her hair, with one resting on her leg, and the other slipping inside his jacket, which she was still wearing. His hand sought for her breast, when the unthinkable happen…she started to slip off the porch railing. He was no longer supporting her weight, and neither was she, and as soon as his hands left her back, to come to her front, she lost balance, and began to slip. He caught the lapel of the jacket, just in time. He saved her from a nasty fall. They both laughed, at what might have been, and he put his hands around her waist, and set her feet on the floor.

"You're so clumsy," he accused.

"That was your fault." She slapped his chest.

"Not hardly," he retorted.

"If you hadn't tried to feel me up, then I wouldn't have almost fallen," she explained, walking back toward the front door.

"Feel you up?" he asked, with mock annoyance, "Seriously, I was checking my pockets to make sure you hadn't stolen my wallet."

She gave him a dirty look, but took his hand and led him back inside.

"Draco, dear, would you like George to find you something you can wear to sleep in?" Mrs. Wealsey asked.

"I sleep in the nude," Draco said, unabashed. Everyone snickered, except for Hermione, whose face turned red, and Mrs. Weasley, who blushed as well.

"Fine, well, Hermione, would you like Ginny to find you something, dear," Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Yes, that would be nice, I would like to get out of this dress," Hermione said.

"I would like her out of that dress," Draco said, leaning over to George. George laughed. Harry, who also heard, glared at Draco with daggers.

Hermione and Ginny walked upstairs. Ginny said, "You will be staying in my old room. Harry and I are sleeping on the pull out in the living room, and Charlie and George will be in Charlie and Bill's old room."

"Where will Draco be?" Hermione asked.

"Across the hall from you, in the twin's old room," Ginny said with a gleam, leading Hermione to her old bedroom.

"What about Ron's old room? Why doesn't someone stay there?" she asked.

"I don't know, this was how mum arranged it," Ginny said, handing Hermione a set of summer pajamas. They were yellow; cotton shorts and a camisole top, and they looked brand new.

Hermione said, "These are new."

"So?" Ginny said.

"I don't want your new pajamas," Hermione said.

"I think Draco will like them," Ginny said, with a twinkle.

"Ginny! Are you out of your mind? He won't see them?" she said to her friend.

"Sure he will, for you aren't going to bed yet, are you. Now, get dressed. The colour will look very pretty on you." Ginny started to leave the room.

"Ginny," Hermione called out. Ginny turned around. "I'll take the couch, please, and you and Harry take this room. That would be better. I don't sleep very well at night anyway. Please. Otherwise, I'll feel like an annoyance."

"Sure, Hermione, whatever you wish." Ginny smiled at her.

Hermione walked into the bathroom. When she opened the door, Draco stood there, sans shirt, with only his slacks on, washing his face.

"Oh," she said, resignedly.

"Do you need the bathroom?" he asked.

"What?" she asked, looking at his well defined chest, and broad shoulders. He WAS beautiful.

He grinned wickedly, and closed the door behind her. She was directly in front of him, and his arm brushed her arm as it shut the door. He said quietly, "I asked if you neededthe bathroom?"

Instead of answering, she said, "Why did you shut the door?"

He leaned down, soap still on his face, chest still as naked as ever, and kissed her cheek. He said, "I shut the door, so I could do that."

She put her hands on his chest, and pushed him away from her. She still had the yellow pajamas in her hand. He looked down at them, and looked back at her and said, "I bet that's a lovely colour on you."

"What?" she asked, shaking her head.

"Granger, are you going deaf on me?" He turned from her and continued to rinse the soap from his face. "Hand me that towel," he said. She handed him the towel. He patted his face dry, then handed it back. She stared unequivocally at him. He liked that she wanted him as much as he did her. He started to brush his teeth, deciding to let her think he was ignoring her. She soon turned to leave, opening the door. He came up behind her, and shut the door again. His breath was warm against her shoulder. His body was hard and lean against her back. He kissed her exposed neck, and bit her shoulder lightly.

He stopped for a mere moment, and put both hands on the door, beside her body. He leaned as close as he could, so the front of her body was pressed flushed against the door. She felt faint. He licked her neck, and bit her earlobe. She dropped the pajamas from her hand. Now her hands were flat on the door, next to his. "You should get ready for bed," he stated. He brought his hand up to the zipper on her back. She leaned her forehead on the cool grain of the door.

He let his fingers glide up the zipper first, before clasping the end, and sliding it down slowly, letting his thumb glide down her back, as he brought the zipper down so her dress was completely open in the back. Even though it stopped at the top of the elastic of her panties, his breathing was becoming shallow, at the thought of what rested below that, and what he would see when the dress fell away.

She still did not move, or say a word. He put one hand on the smooth skin of her lower back, bending his head to kiss her spine. His hand went up to her white lace bra. He slipped his index finger under the clasp, rubbing it back and forth under the elastic. Her knees felt weak. His hands glided up to her shoulders, and pushed the dress away from them slightly. She took a ragged breath and pushed herself away from the door. She turned around. The dress fell to the floor. He stared at her, and he had never seen her look more beautiful than she did before him, in only her bra and knickers. He started to touch her shoulder, when there was a bloody knock on the bathroom door.

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	22. Chapter 22

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**Chapter 22 - **

When Hermione turned to face him, her dress dropped off her shoulders and fell to the floor. All Draco thought was, 'My god, she is more beautiful than I ever imagined.' Her breasts were pert and round, her waist slim, her hips wide, and her legs long and lean. He took a deep breathing, inhaling in, and then exhaling out. He reached out for her, and then there was a knock on the door.

"Damn!" Draco said under his breath. He nodded to Hermione and whispered, "Does anyone know you're in here?" She shook her head no. He said, "The bathroom is occupied."

"Malfoy?" the person said.

"Bloody, Potter," Draco mouthed to Hermione. She bent down to pick up her dress, but he put his foot on it, on purpose, and turned to the door.

"Go away, Potter, I said the bathroom is occupied, and I don't particularly feel up to sharing with you," Draco seethed.

"Have you seen Hermione?" Harry asked.

"How the bloody hell would I know where Granger is? I'm on the toilet, dammit!" he said. Hermione started to laugh, and he put his hand on her mouth.

"Sorry to interrupt, it's just, Ron's returned and he wants to talk to her for some reason. If you see her, tell her to come find me downstairs, and I'll go outside to see Ron with her." Harry left, and Draco turned, mouth opened in shock, toward Hermione. She also had her mouth opened, and looked as if someone had knocked the wind out of her.

She started hyperventilating. She was breathing hard, and she bent at the waist, one hand on Malfoy's arm.

"Take a deep breath," Draco suggested.

She stood up and said, "What the bloody hell? He's suppose to be on his effing honeymoon! I have to get out of here. I don't want to see Ron!" She bent down to pick up her dress again, and as much as it pained him to let her put it back on, he did.

"Do you want me to go down with you?" he asked.

She started to cry, dress still in hand, and he took her in his arms. If he could hex Ron Weasley from the bathroom, and get away with it, he would. He stroked her hair and said, "It's fine. You don't have to go see the wanker."

She stepped into her dress and turned around. "Zip me," was her simple request. He slipped his shirt on first, buttoned it up, and then zipped her. They both walked out of the bathroom, and Harry was still outside in the hall waiting for them.

Instead of giving them a dirty look, he took Hermione in his arms. "Malfoy's right, you don't have to go down there."

"What does he want? Where's Pansy?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, and believe me, his family is not the least bit happy with him right now. Do you want me to tell him to go away?" Harry asked.

She didn't know what she wanted. Ron was ruining her perfect day. She asked, "What time is it?"

Harry looked confused, but looked at his watch. It was 11:53 pm. He didn't respond right away, so Hermione took Harry's wrist and looked at his watch herself. She said, "I'll see him in seven minutes. He will not ruin this perfect day for me. After midnight, I'll see him." Harry understood.

Draco said, "I'll bring her down in seven minutes." Harry turned around and walked down the stairs.

Hermione looked at Draco and said, "How do I look?"

He wanted to ask her why she cared, for it was just the redheaded weasel, but he said, "Beautiful," because after all, it was the truth.

He took both her hands and took a deep breath, and she knew it was a prompt for her, so she followed his lead, and took a deep breath as well.

"This won't change anything, Hermione," he said. He hoped.

"Of course it won't," she said, "Why? Why do you think he's here?"

Draco thought the stupid prat probably reconsidered, and knew he threw aside a diamond for a piece of manure. "I wouldn't know why he's here." Draco looked at his watch. It was 11:57. "Three minutes."

She whimpered, and started to wring her hands. Then she shook them out, and said, "Buck up, old girl. You can do this. Where is your courage?"

She smiled at Draco and he said, "Are you a mind reader, for those were my very thoughts."

She leaned into him, to embrace him, and she said, "If I was a mind reader, I would probably have slapped your face for the sinful things you were thinking in the bathroom." He hugged her back and grinned. She was a mind reader.

He let her go and said, "By the time we get down there, it will be midnight." She took one more deep breath, held Draco's hand, and started down the hall, toward the stairs.

They stepped down each step slowly, cautiously, and warily. She said, "I feel as if I'm heading toward the gallows." He couldn't help but laugh. When they got down to the bottom step, he turned to her and kissed her cheek. Before her were the entire Weasley clan, encouraging her with their smiling faces.

"Bust the bastard in the balls," George said.

"Don't take any of his shite," Charlie said.

"Hear him out, Hermione, but hex him if necessary," said Percy.

Mrs. Weasley hugged her and said, "We will be right here for you, sweetheart."

Harry hugged her and Ginny said, "Yell if you need me. I still can do an awesome Bat Bogie Hex." Hermione loved all of them so much. She wished she were part of this family. She was a part of this family.

She looked at Draco, who still held her hand, and said, "Coming?"

"Of course," he said back.

They walked out the front door, and Ron was sitting on the front steps. He stood up. He still had on his tuxedo. He looked at Draco and said, "A moment alone, Malfoy?"

"I don't think so, Weasley," Draco responded. "If you want to talk to my girl, you will talk to her with me present, or not at all."

Hermione secretly smiled to herself. She liked being referred to as "his girl."

"Fine, Malfoy," Ron said, "Hermione, I have been mulling things over all night, and I want you to know that I have nothing but love and respect for you, and I should have been a man, and broke things off with you before I started seeing Pansy."

"Better yet, Ron," Hermione began, "you shouldn't have started it with her in the beginning."

"Right," he said, looking at the ground. "It's just, I feel guilty, starting my new life, knowing that you are so sad and lonely. I want you to get on with your life, and forgive me, once and for all."

"Ron, we've already been through this, before you left this evening. My happiness no longer depends on you. I'm fine, and I will always be fine, and I do forgive you, I just won't be able to forget, not for a long time," Hermione said.

"I want to be your friend again. I miss having you for a friend, Hermione. I love you so much, just not the way I should have," he said solemnly.

"Ron, go back to your wife. My heart is healing as we speak, thanks to Draco." She squeezed his hand. "And we are still friends, I promise."

"Yeah, Pansy's probably out of the bathtub by now. She takes bloody long baths. Well, I didn't mean to ruin your evening," he said, nodding toward Draco, "Take good care of her mate," and turning toward Hermione he said, "Goodbye, Hermione." Hermione let go of Draco's hand and put both her hands on Ron's shoulders, and kissed his cheek.

"Ron, your leaving me was the best thing you ever did for me," she reiterated. He nodded and disapparated away.

She stood with her back toward Draco, staring out to where Ron had just been. He walked up to her and put his hands around her waist. She leaned against his back, but then to his surprise, she broke from his grasp and ran in the house. She ran all the way upstairs and locked herself in the bathroom.

Draco was shocked. Should he run after her? He turned and walked slowly back in the house. The entire Weasley clan was standing around, staring at him. "We heard Ron," Harry said. "Give Hermione some time, Draco." He patted Draco's arm.

"Well, it's very late, so Arthur and I are off to bed. You young ones don't stay up too late." Mrs. Weasley took her husbands hand, but then walked up to Draco. "Thank you for loving our girl, Draco. She deserves someone like you."

Draco thought that was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him, bar none.

Harry and George went to the kitchen, for another bite of cake. Charlie splayed out on the couch, and Ginny said, "Don't fall asleep there, that's our bed."

Charlie said, "I thought you said Hermione wanted the couch."

"Well, I'm sure she would rather have her privacy now," Ginny said. She plopped on her big brothers legs, and bounced up and down. Charlie moaned in fake pain.

Percy walked over and picked Ginny up, and then he plopped on his brother as well. Draco saw them all having fun; the camaraderie that came from having a large family, built in friends, if you will. He never had that when he was young, being an only child. No wonder Granger coveted this so much. She was an only child as well, and except for Ron, this family wasn't half-bad.

He walked up the stairs, and put his hands on the door of the bathroom. Before he could say anything, she opened the door. She had on the pretty, little, cotton, yellow, sleep shorts, with matching camisole. She looked like an angel. Her hair was brushed, and flowing down her back, in long brown waves. Her face was freshly washed, and as she stepped closer, and gave him a hug, he thought she smelled so sweet, a mixture of soap, toothpaste, and Hermione.

"What do we do now, Hermione?" he asked.

"What is everyone else doing?" she asked.

"The Weasley parents went to bed, and the rest are raiding the cake or bouncing on the couch," he said.

"I could go for some cake and then maybe some cuddling?" she asked, sheepishly.

"Couldn't we do cuddling, and then cake?" he suggested.

"No silly, that makes no sense, for once we start cuddling, who knows where that might lead. Of course, since I will be sleeping on the couch, it won't lead to much, unless we want someone to walk in on us," she smiled. He laughed. "What?" she asked, wanting in on the joke.

"Oh, nothing, it's just, your couch has been commandeered by the she weasel, and you have been assigned the nice, private, bedroom, across from mine again. Won't that be a pleasant place to cuddle, Hermione?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, goodness, I've created a monster," she said.

"No my dear, my parent's created me, you must merely put up with me," he said, taking her hand, and running his finger lightly across her arm. He ended at her shoulder, and then bent down and kissed her upper arm. "After you, my dear, let's get the cake portion of the show over with." They walked down the stairs, once again, hand in hand.

Before they reached the bottom step, she said, "What date are we on now, Malfoy, do you suppose?"

"Goodness, Granger, do you know nothing?" he asked, He leaned over, and kissed her hard on the mouth, not caring who saw, and said, "We are on our honeymoon!"

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	23. Chapter 23

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**Chapter 23 – **

Hermione laughed and said, "How did we jump from date, what was it, 32 or something, to our honeymoon? What happened to our engagement? What happened to the wedding?" She led him to the kitchen table, and cut him a piece of cake.

"What are you two going on about?" Harry asked.

"Oh, Malfoy has a theory that our day today is a sort of 'speed dating'. Each hour, and event, constitutes a date, and last I heard we were on date 32, or something, and now we are suddenly on our honeymoon," Hermione tried to explained.

Everyone seemed confused. Finally, Harry said, "There will be no honeymoon for you two in this house."

"Oh, Harry, it's an analogy," Hermione explained. "Each thing we've done today, our first kiss, our first fight, etc, all correlates to a certain 'date'. Like, the first date, get to know each other, second date, playful flirting, third date, kissing, holding hands, and so forth."

Ginny leaned over with a fork in her hand, pointed from Draco to Hermione, and said, "And so if this theory holds true, and Malfoy contends that you are on your honeymoon now, than what in the world did you two do upstairs that was the equivalence of a wedding night?"

George and Charlie both snickered, Draco continued to eat his cake, and Harry stared hard at his friend and said, "Yes, what were you two doing upstairs in the bathroom together?"

Percy stood up and said, "I think now would be a good time to go home. I'll be back for breakfast tomorrow." Hermione was glad for Percy's interruption. She stood up to get a glass of milk. When she got back to the table, she hoped everyone would be on to a new topic. She was wrong. Hermione sat back down, drank her milk, and tried to ignore their stares.

Draco finally looked up from his cake and said, "For Merlin's sake, nothing happened upstairs because Bloody Potter interrupted before the good stuff started."

Hermione glared at him, and said, sarcastically, "Gee, thank you, Malfoy."

"Anytime, sweetheart," he said. He went back to his cake. Hermione shook her head.

Ginny laughed and said, "You only have yourself to blame, Hermione, you apparently married the dolt. Have fun on your honeymoon. If no one needs the bathroom for a while," she looked at Draco and Hermione, "I'm going to have a bath."

She went upstairs, laughing the whole way. George and Charlie took their cake in the living room. Harry stood as well, and said, "Remember, Malfoy, it's a fake honeymoon."

Draco took a dollop of icing on his fork and flung it at Harry. Luckily, for Harry, he had already turned to walk out the room, to join the other men in the living room, so it landed on the floor.

"Go clean that up," Hermione commanded.

"Geesh," Draco said, standing to clean up the icing from the floor. "I guess the honeymoon's over, and now the harping begins."

"That's not nice," Hermione pouted. She mimicked him from earlier, and lobbed a large dollop of icing directly toward him. It hit the back of his head, as he was facing the sink, to retrieve a dishtowel.

Hermione laughed, rather pleased with herself, and said, "I can't believe I hit you. All the way over there. That was pretty impressive, if I do say so myself."

He lifted his hand to the back of his head, and said, "My hair, Granger. MY HAIR!" He took the cloth and cleaned the icing from his hair. He then bent down and cleaned the floor. He sat down opposite her, and since his cake was finished, he took her plate and said, "No more cake for you, naughty girl, don't want you getting fat."

"Hey, I'm not fat. Give me my cake." She held out her hand. He picked up her plate and turned it upside down on her hand, so the icing smeared on her hand.

"Draco, we had a cake war once today, in which I wore the cake instead of eating it. May I please just eat it this time?" she asked. She stood up, walked over to the sink, to wash her hand. He came up behind her, as she washed her hands in the sink. He admired her nice round bum and long tanned legs. He would have to thank 'little red' later, for forcing Hermione to wear such nice sleeping attire.

He took a step closer, and when she turned around, she bumped right into him. "Oh, excuse me, Draco."

"There's no excuse, Granger." He smiled. He reached over to where the cake was on the counter, and he stuck his finger in the icing. He put it near her lips and said, "Here, I want to be sure you get to taste the cake this time."

She regarded him for a moment, and then she took his hand in both of hers, and started to suck on the end of his finger. She twirled her tongue around the tip, licking off the sweet frosting, and closing her eyes, she licked the backside of his finger, twirled the tip again, and then licked down the front. She opened her eyes, and noticed his were hooded with desire. She put his whole finger in her mouth again, and sucked hard, so that her cheeks hollowed. She withdrew his finger, slowly, so slowly, from her mouth, and she closed her eyes once more. She raked her teeth over his flesh this time, and when she finished, she held his hand between both of hers and said, "Yummy." She did the same thing earlier, in the garden, during their 'cake war', but this time, it meant more. She wanted to get an arousal out of him. It worked.

"You're evil," he gleamed. He took his hand from hers. He was so full of desire, that it took every ounce of resolve, in every fiber of his being, not to take her right there on the kitchen countertop.

"Why am I evil?" she asked, innocently. "Oh, I know, I didn't offer you any." She turned around slightly, and put a large portion of icing on her index finger. "Here, Draco, have a taste."

He looked to his left, and then to his right. He felt almost 'sneaky' about what they were doing, as if they might be caught at any moment. He didn't care. He took her hand in his and he put his tongue at the base of her finger, drawing it up, slowly, to the tip. He went down the other side, in the same fashion, licking the icing off her finger. He ended with an open mouth kiss to her palm. He licked her palm and then kissed the other side of her hand. There was still a small amount of icing on the top of her finger, so he took that off with his finger and put it on her lips. He smeared the frosting over her red, ripe, lips, before licking it off with his tongue.

He drew his wide tongue around her lips, circling it twice. Then he moved back a step to look at her, before leaning back in and kissing her sweetly on the lips.

"That was rather good," he exclaimed. "The next time I have cake, I will definitely have to eat it that way."

"I thought it was tasty, too," she said, moving closer, if possible. She put her arms around his neck and added, "Too much sugar will keep us up all night. Maybe we should stop eating now."

"Is that what we were doing?" he asked, kissing her cheek. He darted his tongue out, and licked her bottom lip again. He put her lip between his teeth, and bit down softly.

"I love you, Draco, as odd as that sounds, coming from me, since we've only been together for twelve hours, but I really do," she decided, suddenly serious. She moved her arms from around his neck and rested them on his shoulders, as she leaned her face in the crook of his neck.

"Hey, Granger, did you say, twelve hours?" he asked.

She pointed to the clock on the wall and said, "Yes, it's one in the morning. The reception started at one pm, so it's been twelve hours."

"Happy Anniversary, Darling," he said, pulling her closer and kissing her mouth, serenely, lingering for a moment, hovering his lips above hers, and then kissing her again.

"Happy Anniversary, Love." She smiled back.

Ginny came into the kitchen, and said, "Don't let me interrupt; I'm just getting some water." She pushed past them, filled up a glass, and said, "Back to your honeymoon, Darling and Love." She grinned the entire way out of the kitchen.

"There's no secrets in this house, is there," Draco said, sitting back down at the table. Hermione moved his arm, and sat on his lap.

"No, and the walls are paper thin, so we really do have to behave tonight. By the way, are you tired yet?" she asked, putting her arms around his neck.

"Not at all, what do you have in mind?" he asked back.

"I want to show you something." She stood back up.

"Is it something I will like seeing?" he asked, and snickered.

"I'm not showing you my naked body," she said.

"Damn!" He snapped his fingers. "But I don't care to see anything else."

She shook her head and said, "Fine, be that way," and she started up the stairs. He faithfully followed. She walked to Ginny's bed, and sat down. He joined her. She held his hand. "Do you want me to show you, or not?"

"Yes, please," he answered.

She stood back up and went over to her purse. She sat down beside him again, and said, "Close your eyes, and hold out your hand."

"This better be good," he said, closing his eyes. He felt something plop on his hand. He opened his eyes, and there in his hand was a small, smooth, white, polished stone.

"What is this?" he asked, holding it to his face to examine it more closely. It almost looked like it was made from glass.

"It's a stone I found when I was a child. I was five years old, and I was playing in my front yard. My father yelled out for me to come closer to the house, for I was too near the street. I saw this stone, in the gravel by the road, and I reached for it. Before I knew it, my dad was by my side, and he picked me up in his arms, just as a large truck drove by very fast."

"My dad said, 'I saved your life, my little girl.' Then he asked me what I was doing in the street. I pointed to this rock, and he put me down on the side of the road, and went to retrieve it for me. He handed it to me, and said, 'Nothing is worth risking your life. Keep this always, and remember that', so I kept it from that day on. I brought it to the wedding with me today, to remind me that nothing was worth crying over, nothing was worth risking my life. However, today, instead of a little white rock reminding me of that, I feel like you were there to remind me of that. You are replacing my little white rock. I want to give it to you, because I no longer need it."

She felt embarrassed after her speech, because he was twirling the rock around his fingers, and he was frowning. She went to snatch it back from his hand, but his hand closed to a fist.

"I will always be there to remind you that you are precious, and I won't ever let you risk your life, or your heart, on anything else, I promise," he said seriously. He stuffed the rock in his pocket, leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"Since it's time for gifts, I have one for you," he said, standing.

"Do tell, Draco," she said, crossing her legs and staring up at him from her perch on the bed. He went over to shut and lock the door.

He came back over and said, "Shut your eyes, and hold out your hand."

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	24. Chapter 24

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**Chapter 24 -**

Hermione sat on Ginny's bed, with her eyes closed, and her hand held out, waiting for a present from Draco. She didn't think Draco really had anything for her, but she would play along. She waited, and waited, and finally, she opened one eye, and then the other. Where the hell did he go? She stood up and said, "Draco?" She went to the door and opened it, looked out in the hall, and in hushed tones, but more urgent, she said, "Draco?" She walked over to the twin's old room, and opened the door. There was no sign he had ever been in there. She went to the bathroom, rapped on the door, and said, "Draco, are you in there?"

The door opened, and Charlie stood there in a towel and said, "Sorry, sweety, he's not in here. He might be downstairs." He shut the door and Hermione stayed out in the hall for a moment, and frowned. She trotted downstairs and saw Harry and Ginny making out on the sofa.

"Honestly, they can make out, but I can't?" she said to herself. "You would think they weren't married."

She went back to the kitchen, and opened the back door. She placed her nose right up to the screen door and said softly, "Draco Malfoy, are you out there?" She shut and locked the door, and leaned against the counter. Did she do something wrong? Why would he leave like that? She didn't think that was a nice present at all.

She slowly walked back upstairs, opened the door to Ginny's old room, and screamed.

"Quiet, Granger, you will wake the whole house!" Draco said. He was sitting on the bed, legs crossed, and a small white box in his hand.

"You scared me!" she said, her hand on her chest. "Where were you?" she asked, more than a little put out.

"Where were you? That's the question. I told you to shut your eyes, hold out your hand, and I would give you a present, and when I came back from retrieving the present, you were gone," he explained.

She sat beside him and said, "Well, goodness, Malfoy, I had no idea you were going to be gone an eternity."

"Slight exaggeration. I believe I was gone four and a half minutes," he said.

"No, it was a good ten minutes," she argued.

"I beg to differ, it was five minutes, tops," he said back.

"Whatever, the point is, I thought you weren't coming back. I thought you left," she argued. She felt a constriction in her chest, and her voice hitched in her throat.

"I would never leave like that," he said, now a bit upset himself. He was upset with her, however. How could she think he would just leave? Granted, they didn't really know each other well, but hadn't he proved himself to her in the last twelve hours? Okay, twelve hours wasn't a long time to prove anything, but still. "I'm sorry, Granger," he finally admitted, and he was.

She didn't know what to say, so she looked at him, and he was looking at the small box in his hand, moving it back and forth from his right hand to his left. "Is that for me?" she asked.

"Could be, if you still want it," he replied.

"I do. I never refuse presents," she said.

"I'll have to remember that, and tonight when I come to you wrapped in a big bow, and nothing else, I will remind you that you said you never refuse a present," he said, laughing.

"If you only have a bow on, where will it be tied?" she asked.

"You dirty minded little minx," he said. "It will be a self-adhesive bow, and will be stuck right in the middle of my chest." Hermione laughed so hard, she snorted. "There's that snort I love so dearly," he said. "Now, open your present." He started to hand the present to her, but then took it back and said, "Remember, it was last minute, so don't get your hopes up." He started to hand it to her again, only to close his fist once more.

"Come off it, and give me my present," she snapped.

"One more reminder," he said. "This is a monumental occasion, so please, remember this fondly when you are old and grey, and I have left you for a much younger model. Remember that I once gave you a wonderful present, a sort of first anniversary present."

"Give me my present," she whined, holding her hand over his lap. He started to put the box in her hand, but then drew it back a third time. "You prat!" she hissed. She turned around, and jumped on him, knocking him back to his back. She straddled his chest, as he lay back on the bed, and put her hands on his shoulders. "Give me my present now, or suffer the consequences!"

"I just had one more thing to say!" he said. "Boy, Granger, your lack of strength is pitiful. You do realize I could push you right off me, don't you?"

"Oh, yeah, try it," she said, leaning down, so her nose touched his.

"I would, but I rather like this position. I always thought you would be aggressive in bed, and I even imagined you on top," he said, crudely. He put his arms tightly around her waist.

She kissed his nose, "Give," kiss to his cheek, "me," kiss to his other cheek, "my," kiss to his forehead, "bloody," kiss to his lips, "present," kiss to chin, "now," back to his lip.

"God, Granger, I love the violent side of you. I'm never giving you this present," he said.

She climbed off him, to lie beside him, as she propped herself up on her elbow, and she said, "I don't even want it anymore."

He held the box under her nose, waving it back and forth and said, "It's really good. You'll really like it, although it's no little white rock."

She frowned, and sat up. "I know that was stupid. I'm sorry; it was an impulse to give it to you. It doesn't mean anything," she said, embarrassed. She scooted off the bed, went to the door, and started to grasp the doorknob. He climbed off quickly, and stood in front of her, so she could not leave. He removed her hand from the knob.

He put his hand on her cheek, and stroked it feathery soft. He rested his hand on her neck. She looked hurt. "I love that rock, Granger. I'm not joking. Your story and your sentiment behind the gift means even more to me. I wasn't being dismissive when I said that what I have for you isn't as good as your rock. I meant that. It really isn't as good. In fact, it puts your rock to shame. Now I'm almost embarrassed to give you this, and I mean that sincerely." He leaned toward her, and rested his forehead on hers. His hand traveled down her arm, to clasp her hand. He led her back to the bed.

They sat back down, side by side and he said, "Let's start over. Shut your eyes, and hold out your hand." She did as requested. He placed the small white box in her hand. She opened her eyes, and took off the lid. She looked at him once before she looked in the box. Inside was a silver bracelet with a single pendant. The pendant was a diamond teardrop, which sparkled and shined as she held it up to examine it.

"This is lovely," she said. It was. It was breathtaking. "It's too much, though. Is it real?"

He laughed and asked, "What do you think?"

"Malfoy, if this is a real diamond, than it's too much. It's too expensive. Where did you even get it?" she asked.

"Let's take care of one thing at a time," he said, "First, it's real, but it didn't cost me a Knut, for I inherited it. Second, well, there is no second, because that one statement kind of settles everything. I want you to have it. I had always planned to give it to the woman I intended to marry someday, and that's you."

She looked at the bracelet once more, and then said, "You really want to marry me? After one day?"

"I told you at what, hour three or four that I wanted to marry you, so why would I feel any different on hour, almost thirteen?" he asked.

"Malfoy, I'm speechless," she said.

"There's a first for everything," he said and he grinned. She smiled back and held out her wrist. He took the bracelet from her hand and slipped it on her pre-offered wrist. He took her arm in his hand, and kissed her wrist lightly.

"I want to marry you, too." She took his hand, and gave it a squeeze.

"You know what I think would be perfect?" he asked.

"It's really hard to tell with you," she admitted.

He gave her a funny look and said, "I would be offended, but you have a point. What I think is that we should get married one year from today. Well, not today, since its tomorrow, but I mean yesterday."

"You sound tired, for you're talking gibberish, however, I think that's a wonderful plan. One year from the beginning of this relationship, we will get married," she said.

"We had better have had sex before then, I swear, or the bracelet comes right back to me!" he said, standing up and pulling her to him. He pushed her right up against the wall, and pressed his body against her. "Understand my conditions, Granger?"

"I more than understand, I think I can 'feel' your conditions, Malfoy," she joked. He pressed hard against her, and placed his thigh between her legs. He crashed his mouth on hers, kissing her avidly and ardently, and with a single mindedness which rocked her to her core. His hands roamed over her body, on top of her pajamas, and she felt weak in the knees. He lifted his mouth from hers, but his body remained flushed against hers, holding her up. She bit her bottom lip, her hands on his shoulders, and her breathing irregular. His breath was ragged as well.

There came a knock on the door. He put his head on her shoulder and hissed, "I swear if that's Potter, I will bloody well kill him."

"Me too," she said. She put her hands around his neck, and leaned in for another kiss. He obliged. There was another knock.

"Hermione?" It was Charlie. "Did you ever find Draco?"

"Yes, Charlie, thanks," she stated with a laugh. Draco continued to kiss her neck. His mouth went down to her collarbone. "Oh," she said.

"What?" Charlie asked.

"Nothing, go to bed," she said harshly.

Charlie laughed from outside in the hall and said, "Goodnight, Hermione, goodnight, Draco." He walked to his room and shut the door, laughing the whole time.

He drew his tongue across the exposed skin of her neck. He lifted her up, so she was several inches off the floor. His arms were around her waist, and he walked with her over to the bed. He continued to kiss her the whole way. He placed her feet back on the ground, and pushed her slightly so she fell back on the bed. His expression was a new one to her. She didn't know what it meant, but she could take a guess. He leaned one knee on the bed, and looked down at her.

Her hair, fanned out around her head, accentuated her beautiful face, which was flushed and glowing. One arm was above her head, the other, rested on her stomach. Her legs, which he had admired all day, were stretched out before him. He thought she looked like an offering from the gods. He dare not put more than just his knee on the bed with her, for if he did, he would not be able to keep his promise to be good tonight. He took the tips of his fingers, and touched one of her thighs, lightly, so lightly, that she might have imagined it. He drew the same fingers down her leg, to her knee, and then to her calf.

"You're beautiful. Do you know how much I want and desire you?" he asked. He looked back at her face, each hand resting beside her head on the pillow. He kept his arms straight, holding his body as far from hers as he could. He looked at her closely, and said, "Well, do you?"

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	25. Chapter 25

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**Chapter 25 - **

He wanted her. It was more than desire. It was more than love. It was indescribable, what he felt for her. He had never felt it before, and he was certain he would never feel it again. In fact, he was certain no man had ever felt for a woman, what he felt for her.

He kept his arms straight, holding his body off hers, as far as he could. He looked down at her beautiful face, closely, and said, "Do you know how much I want and desire you? Well, do you?"

Hermione didn't know what to say. It was a rhetorical question, anyway, so instead of trying to put what she felt for him into words, she put her hand flat against his cheek. He shut his eyes, and leaned into her touch. That was his answer.

He pushed himself away from her, and walked over to the corner of the room. He needed to compose himself. He said, "Give me a moment."

She smiled. She loved that she had that kind of power over him. She would never admit as much, but she did. His affect on her was pretty powerful as well. She sat up in the bed, and pulled down the covers, folding them at the end. It was a single bed, too small for two, put she hoped he might join her, just for a while. She got under the sheet, and said, "Draco, before you come to bed, will you open the window?"

He turned to look at her. She was a wirily one, wasn't she. Almost manipulative. She knew the affect she had on him. Did she really think he would be able to share a bed with her tonight, and keep it from being a "Mature" rated story? He went over and opened the window, as requested, and then sat down on the bed. He put his hand on her arm, he just needed contact, as he stroked it up and down, he asked, "Are you tired?"

"Exhausted, actually," she admitted.

He leaned down and kissed her arm. He stood up and said, "Then, I will go on to my room. Your window is open, as requested. I love you, and I'll see you when you wake in the morning."

She propped herself up on her arms, ready to protest, but he opened the door, and started to the hall. He turned and said, "Honestly, Granger, I'm not a saint. I'm a man, with desires, made of flesh and blood, and I don't have the fortitude to stay in the same bed with you, and not make love to you. It doesn't mean I don't love you. In fact, it means the opposite. If I didn't love you so much, I would never in my life dream of leaving your bed. Goodnight, my love, and pleasant dreams." He shut the door, but remained in the hallway; hand on the doorknob, for many long minutes. He contemplated opening the door, many, many, times. Finally, he crossed the hall, and went to his own room.

He sat on one of the twin beds in this room, and hung his head. He fought with his desire. He wanted to go back to her. Perhaps he could just 'hold' her all night. He stood up, to go to her, but then sat back down. He knew he couldn't. He kicked off his shoes. He went and opened his window, pulled down the covers, removed his shirt, socks, and slacks, and sat back down. He fell back on the bed, in only his silk boxers, crossing his feet at the ankles. He looked around for his jacket, to find his wand so he could caste a cooling charm. He saw it on the other bed. He stood up to retrieve the jacket, when he heard the door open. He turned around, and there she was in his doorway. The light from the hall acted as a backdrop, framing her body in shadow and light. The only light in the room was the light coming from the full moon outside. She looked at his face, and he turned to look at her.

She walked in the room, shutting the door behind her. Without a word to the other, they ran to each other's arms. He held her at arms length, before kissing her sweet mouth. He bent his head and kissed her long neck gently. He said, "Hermione, if you don't leave now, I want it made clear that you alone are responsible for what is about to happen."

"I understand," she said. He guided her smoothly to the bed. They kissed hungrily, and their bodies intertwined with the other. It was muscle verses soft skin, broad shoulder verses graceful legs, hard verses soft, dark verses light. Desire crept from every fiber of his being, and gnawed away at his soul.

Fingers, lips, arms, and legs, dancing a time honoured graceful dance, which was known through the ages, and appreciated by all. He couldn't take his eyes off her, and she in return offered him small tentative caresses. Kissing turned to more, much, much more, and they knew it was real. It was right. Nimble fingers touched places longing to be touched, graceful mouths kissing places longing to be kissed.

As Draco's mouth slid over her body, across its planes and peaks, she hummed softly, as if he was fine-tuning her. Soon, a loud explosion, a triumph, a victory was won. It was all over too soon, but thanks to the heavens, it happened. It was appreciated, it was true, it was right, and it was real.

He held her in his arms, and she stroked his chest. She began to cry, and she propped herself up to look at him. He put a hand to her face, capturing one of her tears. "Why do you cry, Granger?" He sat up, holding her, as she tried to escape. "Hey, where are you going? What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, that's just it," she said, pulling the sheet around her body, and sitting on the side of the bed. He quickly put his boxers back on, and sat beside her. "It was perfect. It was what should have happened. I feel complete. I feel like we have been toying with the prospect of this moment all afternoon, and all night, and this was meant to be." She put her hands up to her face, and continued to cry.

"Then why are you crying, you silly thing?" he asked.

"Because, Draco, what if this is all we have? What if this is the pinnacle of our relationship? After this, we can't go back. We shouldn't have rushed this. We've rushed the whole day, and we shouldn't have rushed this," she said sincerely.

"Do you love me?" he asked.

"Yes," she almost whined.

"Then nothing is wrong. We did the right thing. Please, please, don't say you regret it. I will never forgive myself, if you say you regret it," he said, pulling her to his side.

"I don't regret it," she said. "I just want everything to go right this time. I want everything to be perfect."

He lay back down, pulling her down to his side. He said, "Goodness, Granger, nothing is perfect. Things won't always be right. Don't set us up for a fall. It's okay to have high expectations, but don't forget to be fallible. We're human, after all. We will make mistakes, and we will have regrets. That's life."

"How did you get to be so wise?" she asked.

"It comes naturally." He smiled.

She said, "I feel like I threw caution to the wind, for the first time in my life, and now I don't know what to do. What is expected of me?"

"You ARE silly. I don't expect anything. What do you expect from me?" he asked.

"Just don't change how you feel. Please, I couldn't survive if one more person fell out of love with me," she said solemnly. Her words were so sad, that it almost broke his heart. He hated Ron Weasley, yet, if the man hadn't broken Hermione's heart, Draco would never have been able to mend it for her. It was a full circle.

He decided to change the subject to something lighter. "So, how many children shall we have, Granger? I say four. Two girls, two boys, to keep everything even."

"I want a large family," she said. "Four sounds good. What will their names be?"

"Our first born, a boy of course, will be named Cygnus, for we must keep up the tradition of being names after constellations," he said. He wasn't joking. He always liked that name.

"I could live with that, go on," she yawned.

"Our next child, a girl, who will be as pretty as her mummy, will also be named after a constellation. Her name will be Aquilla. She will be our artistic child," he said.

"You're weird, but interesting, keep going, child number three, constellation name," Hermione prompted.

"Oh, our third child, also a girl, doesn't have to have a constellation name. I think you should name her. She will be very smart, like you, but look more like me. What will we name her, Hermione?" Draco asked.

Hermione was quiet for a moment. He looked down at her; to be certain she hadn't fallen asleep. "I don't want her to feel left out, so I think she needs a constellation name, too. Maybe Ara or Carina. Hydra would be a pretty name, as well. I like Carina the best. It's part of the Heavenly Water Family of Constellations."

"My oh my, you are my own little encyclopedia, aren't you, Hermione?" He kissed the top of her head. "Fine, I like Carina. Our last child, our baby, will be a boy. What name should we pick for our spoiled youngest?" Draco asked, stroking her hair.

"There's Leo, or Orion," she said, and then she suddenly became more awake and said, "We could name him Lupin. There's a constellation named Lupus, which is almost like Lupin." He frowned.

"There's a constellation named Norma and we won't be naming a child that, either. No, no names sounding like werewolves. I think I like Leo."

"I like Leo," she agreed. She yawned again.

"Are you sleepy?" he asked.

"Very much so, but I don't want to sleep. I don't want to waste one moment with you," she admitted.

He actually laughed at her, and said, "I shall say it for the third time tonight; you are a silly little thing. We have the rest of our lives to spend together. So go on to sleep. I'll be right here in the morning. I promise."

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	26. Chapter 26

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**Chapter 26 – **

Hermione could hear the steady breathing of the man beside her, and it gave her comfort, hope. She had her hand on his chest, and she could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. It had to be very late, or very early, she didn't know which, for they were the same. Hermione looked over at his face, as they shared a pillow. His eyes, shut, so he was undoubtedly sleeping. She reached up, softly, and touched his face, bringing her fingertips down his cheek.

How could she truly love and cherish someone, as much as she did him, after only a day together. Either she was insane, or this was what true love felt like, and she had just never felt it before.

She shut her eyes, to join him in sleep.

Draco knew Hermione was still awake. Even with his eyes shut, he could feel hers upon him. It gave him reassurance, and joy, to know that the woman who shared his bed would someday share his name. When he thought of all the years he wasted hating her, when he could have loved her, well, it filled him with regret and shame. He felt her hand come up and stroke his cheek. In the silence of the room, he heard what he had never heard before, he heard his heart burst, from the love he felt for this woman. This woman, whom just a day before, was only a mere thought, no, an afterthought, to his life, was now his entire life. It was odd, how love worked.

He shifted to his side, his eyes still shut. Her hand fell from his chest. He opened his eyes, to look at her face. She was sleeping. The light from the window, be it from the stars, or from the moon, lit up her face. He could not resist himself; he leaned over and kissed her forehead. He touched her lips. She opened her eyes. "What time is it?" she asked.

"Time for you to go to sleep," he said.

"I was sleeping, but you woke me," she said, smiling.

"I'm sorry," he said, touching her face again.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"I'm thinking about you," he said, simply.

"Anything in particular about me that has you awake at this hour?" she inquired.

"You don't even know what time it is, or you wouldn't have asked me, and yes, something in particular is on my mind," he said, bringing her body within his strong embrace.

"Do tell," she said.

"I was thinking about how I wasted so much of my life, not having you in it. I feel as if my life is just beginning, right now," he said. He kissed her hair. She drew circles on his chest.

"I know that I feel the same way. We should never waste another moment. Let's make a pact now, that no matter what, we won't waste one more minute or our lives without the other in it," she said. She lifted her head, to look in his eyes.

"It's a deal," he said. He put his hand on her cheek, and said, "And to answer your question from earlier," he said, looking at his watch, "It's 3:06 am."

"Really? It doesn't seem that late," she said.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

"I really am," she said.

"Then go back go back to sleep. I'm ready for some shuteye myself," he said, actually yawning.

"Is there one moment in your life you would like to go back and change?" she asked.

Draco thought for a moment, and said, "There's too many to mention. Truthfully, I would like to go back and change every moment that I caused you pain, or was mean and cruel to you."

She did not answer. She took a deep breath, and started to crawl out of the bed, across his body.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked, reaching for her arm, to stop her as she pushed down the sheet, and started to climb over his body.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she answered.

She left the bed, and started to open the door. Draco snickered and sat up in the bed. "Granger, you might want to put your pajamas back on, or else you might give someone an eyeful." Hermione looked down and suddenly covered her body with her arms. He added, "Of course, you are all rather close in this house, so maybe you walk around naked in front of each other all the time."

She was dressing quickly, and she said, "Not bloody likely." She opened the door, and left the room swiftly. He went to lie back down, and pulled the sheet back over his body. After several long minutes, she had not returned, so he slipped on his boxers, and walked out in the hall. He went to the bathroom, and she was not there. He walked over to her room, and she was not there, either.

He went back to his room, slipped on his pants, and walked downstairs, to try to find her. He made it almost to the bottom of the stairs, when he heard her voice. She was talking to someone.

"I don't know if it's real, but it feels more real than anything I have ever felt in my life," he heard her say to someone. Draco sat down on the stairs to listen. He knew it was not right to eavesdrop, but when it concerned her and him, well, he had no choice.

"Then follow your heart, love," the man said. It was Charlie Weasley.

"This isn't about following my heart, this is about so much more," Hermione said. "But still, I worry, what will people think?"

"When have you ever cared what other people have thought?" he asked.

"I just want everyone to be happy," she said.

"Don't you want yourself to be happy?" he asked, "What do you want?"

"It's not that simple. If only it was that simple," she said, softly. "Everyone will think I'm on the rebound. They will not take this seriously. They will think we have rushed into it. I don't want anyone to take this lightly, for I know I don't," she said. Draco heard her start to cry.

"Hermione, the people who matter, the people who love you, just want you to be happy. If Draco Malfoy, heaven help us, if Draco Malfoy makes you happy, that's all that matters. You're a smart girl, with a good head on your shoulders, and no one would ever accuse you of making rash decisions. Hell, it took you four days to pick out a colour to paint your kitchen. I should know, because I was the one who had to wait around for four days to help you paint it," Charlie said.

There was an extended silence. Draco wished he knew what was going on down there. He heard the sound of a chair scratching against the linoleum floor. He stood up quickly, less he be caught, and ran quietly back up the stairs. He heard footstep walk across the hall, and the sound of a door opening, and then closing. He opened his door, and went back downstairs. Hermione was standing by the kitchen sink, in the dark kitchen of the Burrow, looking out the window at the dark sky. He stayed by the landing of the stairs, and watched her for a long time. Finally, he said, "This isn't the bathroom."

She turned quickly, startled, and said, "Oh, Draco. I know. I came down for some water, and Charlie was down here eating more cake, if you can believe that, and we started talking."

He stepped up to her, and said, "About what?"

"Nothing of importance," she lied. He reached for her hand, and pulled her up to his chest.

"Really, nothing important, you say?" he asked in her ear.

She put her arms tight around his waist and said, "When I'm with you, nothing else matters."

"I feel the same, Granger. Why are you suddenly so introspective and serious?" he asked. Hermione put her head on his chest.

"What will your friends think about us?" she asked. He stroked her hair, and held her tight.

"I don't know, and I don't care," he said. He meant that.

"What about your family?" she asked.

He looked at her, keeping her tight in his arms, and said, "They won't be very happy, to tell you the truth. They aren't like the Weasleys. They won't accept you with open arms. They won't like that you're Muggle-born. I'm sorry if that hurts you, but I want to try once in my life to be truthful."

"Will they give you a hard time?" she asked.

"Probably," he said.

"Will they disown you?" she said, trying to make light. She tried to grin, but it only came out sad.

"If they do, then you'd better get a better job, to support me in the manner to which I have grown accustomed," he smiled back. "Lighten up, Granger, everything will work out. Have a little faith."

She just looked at him, and tears sprang to her eyes. "I don't want you to lose your friends and family, because of me."

"And I don't want to lose you, because of my friends and family, so we are at an impasse. You are stuck with me, now. There is no way to get rid of me. I'm already a part of you, and you are a part of me," he said seriously. He didn't know what else he could say to convince her. He positioned both hands on her cheeks, and said, "Listen to me, Granger, and understand what I'm saying. This is real. You and I, we're real, we're in love, and that is all that matters. I will not lose you now. As stupid as this sounds, since I've known you a lifetime, I also feel like I've waited a lifetime for you, and if you think I will give up, and lose you now, because people might frown on our relationship, well then, Granger, you have a few things to learn about me."

She put her hands on his, and removed them from her face. She held them up to his chest, and said, "If you think my insecurities is my way of rolling over and giving up, you don't know me, either. Just because I worry about things, and over-analyze things, doesn't mean that I'm giving up on you and me. I hope you know that my love for you is real and sincere. This is just the way I am. I have to think about things, and talk things out, and sometimes I need assurances. Can you handle that? Let me know now, or forever hold your peace."

"You are a fireball," he snickered, and he hugged her. "Your little insecurities, and your bossy attitude, and your ability to irk people, and your constant worrying, are part of your charm." He bent his head, and put his thumb across her bottom lip, before he kissed her sweetly. "Seriously, love, I'm dead on my feet. Come up to bed."

"You go on up. I'm not tired anymore," she said.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I think I'll go outside, and sit under the stars, and worry, and feel insecure, and I might even irk a few people off, by being bossy," she said, smirking at him.

"Nice smirk, that's a trait I find admirable," he said. "Please come to bed."

"Okay, but to my bed. You go to yours. It really is late, and I don't think we should be seen in the same room in the morning," she said, walking toward the stairs.

"Didn't anything Charlie say to you sink in? Don't worry what other people think," Draco said. As soon as he said it, he realized it was a mistake.

She turned on him and said, "Were you listening to us?"

He winced slightly, and then decided to hone up to the truth, so he said, "Fine, I was, but not for long. I was worried when you didn't return from the bathroom. I thought that maybe you drowned in the toilet or something worse. I was so worried I was close to tears. My love for you made me search for you, and then eavesdrop on your private conversation with Charlie. It was your fault, really," he said, pulling all the stops, and smiling at her sweetly.

"Does this type of crap usually work?" she asked, doubtful.

"Up until now, yes, so please don't tell me it doesn't work on you. I won't know what to do, if it does not. I will have to change my whole mode of operation," he said, smiling at her.

"Go to bed, you prat," she said, pushing him up the stairs. When they reached the top, her hands left his back, and she said, "My room's over there."

He leaned close to her, his arm on the wall in front of her, and whispered, "Where?"

She reached under his arm, pointed toward Ginny's old room, and said, "Right there."

"There?" he asked, putting his face close to hers. He brushed his cheek against hers.

"Yes, there," she said, her arms snaking around his middle.

"That room behind us?" he asked, kissing her ear.

"Yes, behind us," she said softly, kissing his bare chest. "Why, where's your room?"

"Over there," he pointed with a nod of his head, his hands rubbing her back up and down, his mouth on her neck.

"Where?" She was almost out of breath. She kissed his neck, mirroring his movements.

"Down there," he pointed again, kissing the side of her mouth, before licking her lips with his tongue.

"Is it a nice room?" she asked, as his mouth played with hers. He kissed her deeply.

"You thought so a while ago," he mused. She put her head against his chest.

"Well, now that we know where our rooms are, we should get a couple hours of sleep." She looked up at his face, and he gave her only a second, before he kissed her again.

"Goodnight, Granger," he said. He pushed away from her, but held on to her hand. She started toward her room, but only got an arms length away, since he had not yet let go.

"Goodnight, Malfoy," she said. He let go of her hand. "I love you."

"You better, for I would hate to think I loved you and you didn't love me back," he said in almost a whisper. She backed toward her room, and when she reached the door, he was still in the middle of the hall.

She stayed in the doorframe for a moment, turned the knob, walked in the room, and looked at him once more before she said, "Oh, helk, Malfoy, do you want to come to my room? Just to sleep, because I really am tired now."

"I thought you would never ask," he said. He walked up to her, put his arms through hers, resting them on her back. "Come, cuddle with me, Granger, and we will fall asleep in each other's arms, and when we wake, we can have a good morning shag."

She sighed and said, "For a brief moment, Malfoy, a very brief moment, you were actually sweet and poetic, and then you had to ruin it. Sometimes I think you shouldn't even open your mouth." She turned around, walked through the door, and pulled him inside. She shut the door, and then crawled in the bed, moving far over against the wall. He removed his slacks and crawled in beside her.

"If I didn't open my mouth, Granger, I couldn't do this," he said, as he leaned over, and gave her a deep, open mouth kiss. After the kiss, he raised his eyebrows, and said, "See."

"Okay, sometimes it's okay to open your mouth. Go to sleep." She moved to her side, threw her arm over his body and her leg over his. He put one arm under his head, and one around her. He smiled to himself. This was the way thing were meant to be. He took a quick look down at her, and she had already shut her eyes.

"One more thing, Granger, before you nod off to sleep," he said.

"Yes," she said, already half-asleep.

"This," he said. He put his hand under her chin, tilted her head toward his, and leaned over and kissed her once more.

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	27. Chapter 27

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**Chapter 27 – **

Draco never meant for it to happen. How did it happen? He looked around the unfamiliar room, at first completely unaware of his surroundings, and when realization hit him, he cursed himself under his breath. Damn, he had never meant to fall asleep. It was apparent, with the bright sunlight imposing itself in the room and on its inhabitants, that it was morning. He fell asleep, wasting precious time with Granger, and now it was morning. Where was the justice? There was one good thing about falling asleep, and that was waking up with her in his arms. He looked at her as she slept in his arms, and he felt at peace. He brought his free hand up to touch her face. Yes, she was real. He just wanted reassurance that he had not dreamt everything that happened yesterday.

She shifted slightly, and threw her leg and arm over his body. He smiled, biting his bottom lip. He could get used to waking up with her in his arms. She shifted again, and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes quickly.

Hermione opened her eyes, and the awareness of what happened yesterday hit her like a ton of bricks. He was real. He was there with her, in Ginny's childhood bed, and everything that happened yesterday and last night, was real. She moved her leg from across his body, and looked at his sleeping face. He was so handsome, even in the morning. She reached over and touched his hair. Why was it he looked so perfect?

She wondered what time it was. She did not want anyone to discover that he and she shared a bed last night, even though the reality was something much more. No one ever need know Draco and Hermione made love together last night. It was really nobody's business. Should she wake him, or should she just let him sleep?

He rolled to his side, trapping her body between him and the wall. He put his hand on her stomach, and his leg went completely over hers. Now what should she do? What if Harry took that moment to walk in and wake her? Draco pulled her body closer, and nuzzled his face in her neck. He was so sweet, at least when he was asleep. The hand on her stomach moved slightly to rest under her breasts. She turned to watch his face. It was still completely relaxed. She shut her eyes. Maybe she could get a few more minutes of sleep.

"Oh," he said. She opened her eyes again. With his eyes still shut, he pulled her even closer, if possible. His body was almost resting on top of hers, and he was softly kissing her neck, with his eyes closed. "That's good, sweetheart," he said. Hermione grinned. He must be dreaming about her. He said, "Yes, you taste so good in the morning, Daphne." Hermione frowned. Who the hell was Daphne? He was kissing her cheek and he muttered, "No one compares to you, my love, my sweet, darling Daphne."

Hermione sat up abruptly, hitting and kicking him so hard, that he fell out of bed. He started to laugh, as she asked, "Who is Daphne? Daphne Greengrass?" She climbed out of bed, and tried to step over his body. He grabbed her ankle. She tried to pull it from him, as he continued to laugh. "Let me go, Draco! Go back to your pleasant dreams of Daphne!"

He got up on his knees, and he tackled her, careful to pull her over on top of him, instead of having her hit the floor. She landed on top of him, on the floor, in a heap. He moved to his back, holding her tight against his chest. He had an evil smile pasted on his face and he said, "You're so gullible. I woke up before you. I was only feigning sleep. I was actually going to pretend to be sleeping, and see how far you would let me get before you found me out, but then I thought of this little joke, and I couldn't help myself. Forgive me, Granger." He reached his face to hers and kissed her gently. She pushed against his chest.

"Let me go, you evil creature!" she said.

"Tell me you love me first," he said.

"I don't even like you anymore!" she said. She hit him on his face, but it was more of a love slap than an affliction of pain.

"Tell me you can't live without me," he said. He tried to kiss her again.

She pushed even harder against him and said, "No, for that's not the truth. I can live fine without you, you idiot!" As they tossed, turned, and rolled around on the floor, someone came into the room.

"Did you fall out of bed? We heard a thump," Ginny said, closing the door behind her and snickering.

"Lord, let me go, Draco," Hermione said. He was more determined than ever to hold her tight.

"Granger likes it rough in the morning, and I was just obliging her," Draco told Ginny.

Ginny grinned and said, "Yeah, right. Whatever, none of the rest of the family is awake yet, since it's just a wee bit after seven, just Harry and I, but Mum will probably be awake any minute, so either go back to your room, Draco, or both of you come on downstairs." Ginny flitted from the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Let me go," Hermione said, with no conviction. She laid her head on his chest, having already given up the fight.

He rolled over, so he was on top, and she was on the ground. "I thought you already knew, I'm never letting you go, Granger," he said. He leaned over her, and kissed her jaw line. He kissed down one side, up the other, ending at her lips. He played with her lips for a moment, before his true intentions were clear. He intended to kiss her all morning, if that was possible. He started kissing her, and she started responding, her hands coming up around his neck, to play with the back of his hair. Only when another knock came to the door, did they stop.

"I hate this family. Must they always interrupt?" he whispered.

"I love this family, and that's what happens in a big family," she whispered back. She kissed him once more, and then extradited her body from underneath his long, lithe frame.

"Coming," she said to the person on the other side of the door. She opened the door to reveal Mrs. Weasley standing in the hall. Unfortunately, she opened the door wide enough so that Draco could be seen on the floor of the room.

"Good morning, Hermione dear," she said. She looked around Hermione's body and said, "Good morning, Draco, sweetheart. I wanted to know what you two would like to have for breakfast."

Draco stood up and said, "I love waffles."

"Waffles for Draco," Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Any fruit, dear?"

"Blueberries?" Draco asked, standing behind Hermione at the door.

"Blueberries it is," Mrs. Weasley said as she smiled, cupping Draco's cheek. Draco turned toward Hermione, gave her a satisfied look, as if to say, 'all mothers love me,' and he walked over to the bathroom, to get his shower.

Hermione said, "Mrs. Weasley, I want you to know, while Draco did technically sleep in this room with me last night, we didn't have sex in here, or anything." She did not need to know about what happened in the twin's old room.

Mrs. Weasley smiled and said, "Goodness, dear, I hardly think that matters at this stage of the game, and frankly, I think you were crazy not to take advantage of him last night. If I were you, I would have. He is quite the looker. He has a very fit body, too. Now, what do you want for breakfast?"

Hermione stood there, mouth opened, in utter shock and astonishment. Mrs. Weasley thought Draco had a nice body! She thought they SHOULD have had sex! Hermione finally said, "Oatmeal's fine."

Mrs. Weasley smiled at her, said, "Oatmeal for Hermione," and walked downstairs. Hermione stayed in the doorway, mouth still agape, still stunned.

Harry walked toward the bathroom and cursed. "Damn, I never get the bathroom first around here, even when I wake up early!" He turned to look at Hermione. "Hermione, are you okay?" he asked.

She acted as if she didn't hear him. He walked up to her and asked again, "Tell me, Hermione, is something wrong?"

She looked at Harry, and then grabbed his arm and pulled him in the room. She shut the door and said, "Oh my goodness, Harry, Draco and I had sex last night!"

"Yuck! Why?" he asked, pushing her slightly with both hands. She came back and pushed him.

"Harry!" she said.

He actually pushed her for a second time and said, "Why did you have to tell me that? You don't understand! I don't want to imagine you two doing things like that! I never, ever would let Ron talk about you like that, and you never tried to talk about Ron, so I was living in a very comfortable place, and now you have ruined it by telling me you slept with Malfoy!"

"It's not like I gave you a play by play!" she said.

"But why did you tell me?" he asked. He made a disgusted face, stuck out his tongue, and sat on the bed. Then he jumped off the bed, turning to look at it, and said, "Is that the scene of the crime? Gross! I sat on it!"

"Harry, it happened in George's old room," she said. She sat on the bed and he came to join her, looking at the bed once more, almost as if he did not believe her.

Sitting down beside her finally, he put his arm around her and said, "Why did you tell me? I'm sure Ginny would have been a better person to tell."

"It's like I just realized it, when Mrs. Weasley said that she thought Draco was quite shaggable. That was when it hit me," Hermione wailed.

Harry jumped from the bed and said, "What the bloody hell are you talking about now? Molly said she wanted to shag Malfoy?"

"Harry!" Hermione said, standing beside him, "Keep your voice down, and she didn't say she wanted to, she said she thought he was desirable, and she more or less said she could see why I would want to, and that's when it hit me that we did, we did, Harry, we really did." She started shaking Harry's shoulders, and she kept saying, "We had sex! Harry, Malfoy and I had sex!"

Finally, Harry removed her hands from his shoulders, and put his on hers. "Calm, down Hermione. You can take a nice long shower, and get all the Malfoy germs off you, and maybe then I can modify your memory, and everything will go back to normal, and we can all once again live in a Malfoy free zone."

Hermione frowned at Harry and said, "I don't want to forget, you stupid idiot!" She walked out to the hall, as Draco was walking out of the bathroom. She passed him without a glance, and slammed the bathroom door. Draco turned to look at Harry, accusing him with his glare.

"What did you do to make her angry, Potter?" Draco asked.

Harry merely gave Draco a dirty look and went to bang on the bathroom door, and said, "First, Hermione, this conversation isn't over with! Second, I am not an idiot! Third, I was next in line for the shower!"

Draco turned in the doorway, towel around his hips, and he said, "What has your wand in a knot, Potter?"

Harry gave Malfoy a death glare and said, "I don't see what Mrs. Weasley sees in you!" and he stormed back downstairs.

Draco stood perplexed in the doorway, wondering what that was about, and then he shrugged and went to get dressed. On his bed was a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt. Freshly washed, and just his size. He smiled. Mrs. Weasley must have put them there. Potter must be jealous that Mrs. Weasley liked Draco better than him.

He got dressed, and went to wait for Hermione in her room. She came sauntering in, towel around her body, another one in her hands, rubbing her hair. She had yet to see him sitting on the bed. She was humming. She looked up and said, "I could have been naked, Malfoy."

"I was counting on that." He grinned. He stood up and said, "One little movement of my hand, and we could even arrange that."

"Funny, but get out while I find something to wear. I hope Ginny has something for me," Hermione said, opening a couple of drawers.

"If Mrs. Weasley liked you as much as she did me, she would have put out freshly washed clothes for you. See, these were waiting for me," Draco said, holding the t-shirt away from his chest.

"She loves you, alright," Hermione said under her breath. She went over to the closet. Draco stood behind her. He held out a light pink cotton summer sundress.

"Wear this. It's very pretty."

She took it from his hand. It was very pretty. She saw it still had a tag on it and she said, "No, I already wore her new pajamas last night. I will not wear her new sundress. There are some jean shorts in the drawer, although she's smaller than me, so I don't know if they'll fit."

Draco took the dress from her hand, and walked out in the hall. Ginny was starting toward the bathroom. "Little Red, can Granger wear this today?"

"Sure, it'll look pretty on her. It is not really my colour, anyway. My sister-in-law bought it for me, that's why it's in this closet, and not at my house. Tell her she can keep it," Ginny said, shutting the bathroom door.

Harry ran up the stairs, and said, "Damn! Who's in the bathroom now?"

"Your wife," Draco said, rolling his eyes. He turned to walk back in Hermione's bedroom and Harry took a hold of his arm. Draco looked back at him.

"Listen, Malfoy, in all seriousness, please don't hurt Hermione in anyway. Please, be kind to her, treat her right, and love her the way she deserves to be loved."

Draco smiled. "I will, Potter. Hey, if I were you, I would stake my claim at the bathroom, by standing right where you are, by the door. That way, you're sure to be next," Draco said. He smiled and walked back in Hermione's room.

Hermione was sitting on the bed, combing her hair, when Draco handed her the dress. "Here, Ginny said to keep it, she doesn't even like it. Apparently, it was a gift from Fleur, oh, and Potter just gave us his blessing, in his own way."

Hermione stood up beside him and said, "Really?"

"Yes, she said she hated the colour," Draco said.

"No, I mean, about Harry? How do you know?" Hermione inquired.

He put his arms around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. His hand went flat on the skin of her upper back, above the towel, which was still damp from her wet hair. He said, "He just told me to treat you right, and I told him, in my own way, that I would."

"Thank you," she said. She kissed his cheek.

He started to kiss her, but he stopped when Mrs. Weasley yelled up the stairs one word: "BREAKFAST!!"

He let her go and said, "Hurry, Granger! Blueberry waffles!" He ran downstairs, and she stood in the middle of the room, holding the pink sundress, laughing at his retreating figure.

She said to herself, "I hope he's picking the waffles over me and not Mrs. Weasley over me." She shut the bedroom door to dress and said, "I'm jealous of waffles!"

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	28. Chapter 28

_all characters and canon situations belong to JK Rowling and I make no money from the publishing of this story. Thank you._

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**Chapter 28 - **

Hermione was singing. _"I couldn't stand the pain, and I, would be sad if our new love…was in vain…_" Her voice filled the kitchen as she and Ginny washed the dishes after breakfast. Draco sat at the table, watching, listening, and loving every minute of it.

"What song is that?" Draco asked, as Hermione continued to hum.

"It's called, 'If I Fell', by the Beatles," Hermione said.

"The who?" Draco asked.

Hermione laughed and said jokingly, "Not the Who, the Beatles."

Harry walked into the kitchen and said, "Lord, have mercy, Malfoy, even most wizards have heard of the Beatles."

"Are they a Muggle band?" Draco asked.

Ginny said, "You are joking, right? You've had to have heard of the Beatles!" Ginny suddenly ran from the room. She came back with a Muggle record album, pointed to it and said, "The Beatles! See! I'm a pureblood, just like you, and I've heard of them!"

"Okay," Draco said, almost defensively, putting his hands up in defeat. "Still, that's a nice song, but don't worry, Granger, your love will never be in vain."

Hermione made a funny face, wondering what he was talking about, when she thought of the song. She said, "Oh, the lyrics. Well, I hope you take them all to heart, my dear. There's one part that goes 'I've been in love before, and I've found that love is more than just holding hands,' and that's true." To demonstrate, she walked over to where he sat, put the dishtowel over his shoulder, and kissed him sweetly on the lips.

"Yes, love is more than holding hands, Granger, dear," he smirked, kissing her back. "That's what I tried to tell you all day yesterday!" He kissed her again.

"Oh, how sweet," Ginny said.

Harry leaned over to her and said, "If you were getting the mental picture I was getting, you wouldn't think so."

She whispered back, "What do you know that I don't."

Before Harry could answer, Draco said, "We made love last night, and it was glorious."

Hermione put her hands over her face, and stood up from his lap. "Draco!" she abolished, stomping her foot.

"Well, you must have told Potter," he whined, "So, I get to tell someone."

Ginny said, "Give me details!"

Harry and Hermione both said, "NO!" at the exact same time.

Draco stood up, threw the dishtowel at Harry's face, and said, "Let the little friends finish the dishes, Mrs. Potter, and you and I can have a little walk around the garden, and I will regale you with the sordid details." Draco offered his arm to Ginny, she laughed, and they walked out the door.

Hermione went to the screen door as it slammed shut in her face and yelled, "I'm warning you, Draco Malfoy! Don't you dare tell her a single detail!"

Harry sat down, hung his head, and said, "You do realize she will want to talk to me about it now. I will be forever traumatized. This might be worse than the whole Voldemort trying to kill me for 17 years."

Hermione laughed and splashed water from the sink in Harry's direction. It missed. He got up and cleaned the water off the table. Harry came up to her and stood beside her as she watched Draco and Ginny from the kitchen window, as they walked around the back garden. He pushed his shoulder into hers and said, "He fits right in, doesn't he?"

"Weird, huh?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, very weird," he agreed. He turned to sit on the counter and said, "When Ron gets back, do you think you will still come for Sunday dinners, and the like? Will you feel comfortable bringing Malfoy here with Ron and Pansy?"

"I don't know, Harry," she said. She leaned against his chest, and he put his arms around her. "I don't want to lose all of you."

"You will never lose me, Hermione." Harry kissed her forehead. Draco and Ginny walked back in the kitchen.

"They are cheating on us, my dear," Draco said to Ginny.

"No, they are always like that, all touchy feely. I've come to accept it, and you would do good to accept it as well," Ginny said. Then, she looked at Hermione, as she remained wrapped in Harry's arms, and said, "Draco didn't really tell me anything, so I expect a run down from you later." She winked and added, "Now, who's up for some Quidditch? George and Charlie are already outside, and Bill and Percy should be here shortly."

"Granger," Draco asked, "are you playing?"

"No, but I will be the best spectator you've ever seen," Hermione stated. They walked outside, just as Fleur and Bill were arriving. Their daughter ran to her grandpa's waiting arms.

"That's a pretty little girl, blonde and sweet. Will our little ones be that beautiful, do you think?" Draco asked. Hermione was going to make a joke, but she turned and saw that he was regarding Victoire so thoughtfully, that she just smiled.

Everyone grabbed a broom, and were in the field, waiting for Percy to arrive. He finally came walking over the hill, with another gentleman by his side. "Who's that?" Draco asked.

"I can't tell yet," Hermione said. The whole clan was calling for Percy to hurry up, so the two men started to jog. When they came close enough, Hermione's eyes grew wide. It was Oliver Wood. Soon, everyone was clapping him on the back, and shaking his hand. It had been many years since they had seen him.

Draco leaned over and said, "Didn't he go to Hogwarts? Gryffindor? That Quidditch player? Wood? "

Hermione answered all his questions softly, and with one word, "Yes." She looked down at the ground.

"Something wrong, Granger?" Draco asked. His answer came, not from Hermione, but from Oliver himself.

Oliver walked up to Hermione, and said, "Goodness, Granger, you are more beautiful than I remember. How are you?" He took her hands in his, held them out, and accessed her 'beauty'. Draco frowned.

"Nice to see you again, Oliver," Hermione said. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. He turned and nodded to Malfoy, but they exchanged no words.

"Did you go to the wedding yesterday?" Oliver asked.

"Yes, I haven't really left yet," she said meekly.

"If I knew you were going to be here, I would have accepted Percy's invitation," Oliver said, smiling at her. Draco frowned even more.

"Hey! Are we playing or not? Wood, Malfoy, get your arses over here!" George yelled.

"See you, later, Hermione," Oliver said, with a wink.

"Wanker," Draco said, under his breath. He waved at George and said, "I'm going to sit this one out, with Hermione."

"No, go play, Draco," Hermione said, pushing him toward the field.

"I would rather be with you," he said, sincerely.

"Is this because of Oliver?" she asked.

"Why would it be?" he asked. "Was he one of the famous five?"

"The what?" she asked, sitting on the ground, as the others began to play.

"The famous five. The five men you've slept with," he said, sitting beside her.

Hermione laughed and hit his shoulder. "You are a riot, Malfoy! No! I haven't even seen him forever. I had a mad crush on him when I was young, and all the Weasleys knew about it, so did he, and they all used to tease me about it, and it was really quite frustrating. That's all. Anyway, you are the only one I have a crush on now."

"I hope so, Hermione," he said. He looked at the game, but kept stealing glances at her. She kept her eyes on the game as well, but she could tell he kept looking at her. She reached over, without looking, and took his hand in hers. He smiled.

"Sing me another one of those Beatles songs," he said.

"No one wants to hear me sing," Hermione smiled.

"I do," he said. "Sing for me, Hermione."

"No, but I will make you a promise, on our wedding night, I will sing for you."

"You better do a whole lot more than sing to me on my wedding night," he said with a gleam.

"I called it 'our' wedding night, and you called it 'yours'. Interesting. I wonder what psychological meaning that has, if any?" she asked.

"It just means that you are mine, and while I am yours as well, you are less selfish than I am, and me, being the self-centered being that I am, I see everything along the margins of mine, mine, and mine," he said plainly.

"Yes, that would be a good explanation," she mused. She shook her head and said, "You really, truly, are a riot, sometimes."

Draco said, "I can't really argue with that."

"Of course not," she said. They resumed watching the game, when Hermione felt his fingers crawl up her back. At first, she thought it was a bug, but when she realized it was he, she relaxed. His fingers crawled up to the exposed skin of her back, and with the little pink sundress, there was a lot of exposed skin. He started moving his fingers, feathery soft, across her heated skin. He leaned over and kissed her shoulder. His fingers continued their trek and exploration of her back, as his mouth moved from her shoulder, to her neck, and then to her back. He moved her hair away from the back of her neck, and kissed her there as well.

She was trying to pay attention to the game, she really was. She just couldn't. She shook her head a couple of times, to clear her thoughts, but damn him, he was so distracting! His left hand continued to move along her back, this time, tracing under the straps that held the dress together, over her shoulders, as his mouth kissed her shoulder again, and his right hand came to rest on her outstretched leg. The right strap fell from her shoulder, and he did nothing to replace it. Instead, he traced the strap as it lay on her shoulder, stopping his fingers as they reached the front of the dress.

His right hand remained on top of the dress, on her thigh, merely resting meekly. That was about to change.

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	29. Chapter 29

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**Chapter 29 - **

Draco's right hand was on top of her dress, resting on her thigh. He had just leaned over and kissed her shoulder, and now he was leaning over to kiss her lips, properly. He leaned his body into hers, and as she turned her face to his, to kiss him, she instead screamed. "Watch out!"

Oliver Wood came to a screeching halt within a meter of Draco and Hermione, as they sat together on the ground. Draco threw his body over hers, as Oliver climbed off his broom.

"Goodness, are you two okay? I'm dreadfully sorry. I didn't realize I was so close," Oliver said, reaching his hand out to Hermione.

Draco rolled off her body, and as he stood, he pushed Oliver's hand aside with his body. He reached down and helped Hermione stand. Soon, all the others were riding their brooms down to the trio.

Hermione was shaken, but all right. She brushed the skirt of her dress down, and said, "No harm, Oliver, just be careful."

He winked at her, and said to everyone, "Right chaps, back to the game." The rest of the group mounted their brooms, and sped back up to the sky. Oliver turned back to Hermione and said, "Sure you're alright there, Granger?"

"I'm fine, Oliver," Hermione said, "Thanks to Draco."

"Oh, right, Malfoy, thanks for saving our girl," Oliver said, slapping him, a bit hard, on the shoulder. He looked back at Hermione and said, "After the game, perhaps we could take a walk together, Hermione. Get reacquainted."

"You're out of line, Wood," Malfoy said.

Oliver looked confused, and said, "Excuse me, Malfoy? Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean, Hermione and I are together, so you won't be walking anywhere with her. I think you probably already deduced that, when you interrupted us by 'accidentally running into us' with your broom," Draco said, unabashed.

Oliver smiled, laughed, turned to Hermione and said, "Really? Malfoy? Goodness, Granger, I never would have guessed. How long have you two been dating?"

Before Hermione or Draco could answer, Ginny yelled, "Oliver, the game!"

"Right!" Oliver yelled back. He turned back to Hermione and said, "I still would like that walk, if your bodyguard would allow it. See you in a bit, Hermione. Malfoy." Oliver mounted his broom, kicked off hard from the ground, and rejoined the game.

Hermione was glad that Ginny called Oliver back to the game. She didn't want to tell him that Draco and she had only been dating for a day. He wouldn't have understood. Hermione wasn't even sure she understood. She turned back to Draco, and saw that he was walking down the hill, back toward the house.

She ran up to him, pulled on his arm, and said, "What's wrong?"

"So, you did date Wood?" Draco asked.

"Not really," Hermione said.

"He said he wanted to get 'reacquainted', which means you were once acquainted," Draco surmised.

"You are absurd!" Hermione stated.

"So, you never dated him?" Draco asked, feeling more at ease. There was an extended silence. He frowned. "Granger?"

"Fine, but it was only one date, a very long time ago, and right after Ron left," she admitted.

"You said you only had a crush on him, when you were young," Draco said.

"And that was true, I did," she assured him.

"You never said you dated!" Draco almost shouted. Hermione looked up at the sky, and she could see that everyone was playing except for Oliver, who was looking down at them.

"We didn't date!" Hermione seethed. "We just went out once."

Draco threw his hands in the air, and brought them to rest on her shoulders, and he said, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Granger, but going out once constitutes a date, hence, you dated!" He let go of her shoulders, and pointed up at Oliver. "Were you lying as well when you said he wasn't one of the five?"

"The five?" Hermione asked, "For goodness sakes, Draco! No he wasn't!"

"How can I believe that? You said you never dated him either, and yet I find out you did. So maybe when you say he wasn't one of the five men you had sex with, you were lying about that as well!" Draco spouted.

"He wasn't one of 'the five', Malfoy!" Hermione said, "Besides, I told you, we only went out once. I hardly think I would sleep with someone after only dating them once!"

"Really, Granger?" Draco said. "You haven't even dated me once, and you slept with me!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted saying them.

She looked so hurt, that he immediately felt ashamed. "That's a low blow, and uncalled for. Really, Draco, you said you wouldn't hurt me, but saying something like that hurts me more than Ron's cheating." She turned to leave him, but he grabbed her arm.

"That was bang out of line, but I won't apologize," Draco said. Damn, he should apologize, but he was still angry.

"I wouldn't expect you to, Malfoy. Not you. Never you. You wouldn't apologize for anything, would you?" She had tears in her eyes.

"Now you're out of line," he said softly. No she wasn't. He was now angrier with himself, than with her. He took a deep breath, and grabbed her hands. "Listen, Hermione, I'm a stupid fool. I apologize. I really do. I'm being a bloody, jealous, fool, and while it's not an excuse, it is the reason I'm acting this way."

"How could you bring up the fact that I slept with you like that?" she asked, leaning into his arms. He stroked her hair.

"I'm a bastard, that's why. Hey, Granger, why didn't it work with Wood? I mean, if you had a crush on him all those years, why didn't it work? Was he a cad, or something?" Draco could only hope. She walked back over to where they sat before, and sat back on the ground. He sat down beside her.

"I don't know why it didn't work. It just didn't," she said.

"Of course you know. Tell me," Draco prodded. She looked at the ground. He took her hand. "Isn't he your type?"

"No, I suppose he's my type," Hermione said meekly.

"If he's your type, then why aren't you walking around with an engagement ring on your finger? Why isn't he down here with you, instead of me?" Draco asked. She met his gaze and then looked away again. He put his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Because."

"Because, why, Hermione?"

"Listen, Malfoy, Oliver is a kind, sweet, nice, good-looking man," Hermione said.

"But…" Draco coached.

"But nothing," Hermione said.

"There has to be a 'but'," Draco said.

"There is no 'but'," Hermione told him.

"There had better be a 'but' Hermione!" Draco said, turning his body to look at her.

"No, no 'but'," Hermione said. She tried to stand back up, but he grabbed her hands in his, keeping her on the ground.

"Granger, if that sentence doesn't have a 'but' in it, I swear, I am out of here!" he yelled.

"You're ridiculous," she said.

He stood up and started walking toward the house. She scrambled to her feet and ran after him. She grabbed his arm, turned him around, and said, "Fine! I thought of a 'but'!"

"Too late!" Draco said.

"No it's not," she said.

"I think I know when it's too late," he said.

"You can't decide when something is too late," she said. "Those are the types of decisions we must make together. I say it's not too late, you say it is. Since there is no consensus, it's not too late," Hermione reasoned.

Draco cocked his head to the side, narrowed one eye, and said, "It sounds like what you're saying is if you don't think it's too late, than it's not. It sounds as if what YOU want is the deciding factor."

She sighed, threw her hands in the air, and said, "You know what, Malfoy? You are right! It is too late!" Now she started toward the house. He caught up with her and turned her around.

"You can't decide it's too late!" he said.

"I certainly can, and I certainly did! Good day, Draco!" Hermione started back toward the house.

"Granger!" he bellowed. She stopped, but didn't turn around. "Do you know what this fight means? It means we're close to our first anniversary. My goodness, why didn't I see this before? Jealously, a lie, fighting…it all adds up!" She turned to tell him he was insane, when he grabbed her shoulders, pulled her toward him , and kissed her hard on the lips. "Happy Anniversary, darling."

She was beyond words. He was insane. She didn't know whether to kiss him back, or hex his arse into next week. Finally, she decided on a third choice of action. "May I tell you my 'but' now?"

He put his arms around her, kissing her neck. "Tell me, Hermione." His mouth left a trail of hot, wet kisses down the long column of her neck. He decided he would rather kiss her than fight with her any day.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her eyes closed. His mouth on her neck felt heavenly, and her legs felt weak in the knees.

His mouth traveled to the other side of her neck, where it left another row of kisses. "Tell me," he murmured against her pulse point.

"I was going to say that Oliver is one of the nicest, sweetest, kindest, best looking men I know…" before she could finish, he put his hand over her mouth.

"I recall that part, there's no need to reiterate old news, get to the 'but' part," he said staring in her eyes.

"But," she said, "He isn't you. He's not my soul mate. He's not who I was waiting for, looking for, hoping for, because I was waiting for you, Malfoy. I know that in my heart. I love you."

He smiled, but said, "Gee, all that build up for you to tell me something I already know. Where's the fun in that?"

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	30. Chapter 30

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**Chapter 30 - **

He was smiling at her, and holding both her hands in his. She did not know whether to laugh or cry. He confused her so. She said, "You are right, there is no fun in that statement is there?"

"No, the truth is more than fun, the truth is accelerating. The truth is that I love you, too. I really do," he said sweetly. Okay, she smiled. He was a sweet man, after all.

"What time is it?" she suddenly asked.

"No, we will not live by watches or clocks," he said, hiding his watch arm behind his back.

"But, I want to know the time," she said. She moved her body around his, trying to see the watch on his arm.

"Why?" Now he held his arm high above his head.

"I need to know when it's one pm. Will you just let me know when it's one?" she asked.

"Why?" he asked again. He brought his arm back down.

"Because, at one o'clock, 24 hours will have passed. That will be significant to me, so please, let know when it's one." She put her hand on his face, cupping his cheek. He looked at his watch. It was just a bit before ten in the morning. They still had time. Hermione tried to grab his arm once more, to peek at his watch, but he put his arm behind his back again.

"Will you turn into a pumpkin at one?" he asked, with a lazy smile.

"No, but I might turn you into a pumpkin at one," she spoke with a gleam in her eye.

'Promises, promises. You don't scare me, Granger, for you don't even have your wand on you," he said. "Let's go for that walk Wood promised you. It will be more pleasant without him."

"I have to go to the house first," she said.

"Why? Are you going to get your wand?" he asked, twisting her hair around his finger.

"No, I want to get my bracelet. I left it in my room, and for some reason, I want to wear it," she said.

"That's right, wear the bracelet I gave you, so Wood will know you belong to me," Draco laughed.

She grimaced at him, but then smiled. "I belong to no man, Draco."

"You may not belong to me, but I belong to you," he said. He put his hand in his pocket, and fingered the small white stone she gave him. He had decided earlier, when he dressed, that he would carry it with him always. He liked that she wanted to get her bracelet. They walked silently to the house, fingers linked.

When they reached the back door, she said, "Wait for me. I'll be right out." He grinned at her, pulled her to him, and grazed his lips lightly across her cheek, down her jaw, and then to her lips. He did not kiss her; he just let his lips linger above hers for a moment.

"I'll wait for your forever, and I will be counting the seconds until you reappear," he said.

Hermione ran in the house, just as the others started walking over the hill. That was a short game. Harry came running up to Draco and said, "Where's Hermione? Oliver got hurt."

"She's in the house," Draco said. He then noticed Charlie and George with their arms around Oliver, Oliver in between them. They were leading him in the house.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled at the bottom of the stairs. Hermione ran down the stairs. "Oliver hurt his ribs when a stray Bludger hit him. Knocked the wind out of him. Nearly knocked him off his broom."

Hermione walked up to Oliver, and said, "Sit up on the table. Everyone else, out of the room."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I need to examine him, and I don't need a bunch of gawking people on the sidelines. Out!" she said. Mrs. Weasley pointed toward the door to reiterate what Hermione had just said, and everyone started out the door.

"Do you need me to stay, sweetheart?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"No, but tell Harry to go up to Ginny's old room and get my medical bag," Hermione said.

Draco remained in the doorway. He wasn't leaving. No matter what. So far, she hadn't asked him to leave. Harry came back down with the bag, and Hermione said, "That's all, Harry. You can wait outside as well." Harry was about to say that Draco was still there, but when he saw the look of jealousy on Draco's face, he decided not to say a word. Instead, he took Draco's arm, and pulled him outside.

"What the hell, Potter," Draco said.

"Let her examine him, and then you can go back inside," Harry said. He sat on the steps of the back door, to make sure Draco didn't pass. Draco remained right outside the screen door.

Hermione helped Oliver remove his shirt. He had a nasty bruise already on his side. She felt his ribs gingerly. "There doesn't appear to be any fractures." She took her wand and said a few spells. "Good, no internal injuries," Hermione said, her hand going back to his side. She then took her wand and healed his wounds, and helped his pain. He took her hand in his, removing it from his skin.

"Hermione, tell me the truth about you and Malfoy," Oliver asked.

She removed her hand from his and said, "That's none of your concern. You'll be fine. Put your shirt back on." She handed him his shirt.

"So, you didn't say how long you had been dating," Oliver said.

"Why does that matter? It's not how long that's important, it's the way we feel for each other that's important," Hermione said, closing her medical bag. Oliver buttoned his shirt, and then jumped off the table. "Thanks, Healer Granger. You have a wonderful touch. I feel good as new." He held out his hand.

She smiled and took his offered hand. He held her hand, instead of shaking it. "So, it's too late, isn't it?" he asked.

She looked confused. "Too late for what?" she asked.

"For me. For us. It's too late," he asked.

"Yes, it's too late, but seriously, Oliver, there was never going to be 'a you and I' anyway, and we both know it," Hermione said. Just then, Draco peered in the screen door. He was interested in what Hermione was going to say to the bastard. Oliver still had her hand. "Please, Oliver, let go of my hand."

"Tell me why? Why him? I told you that I had strong feelings for you," Oliver said.

"Yes, and then you never called again. You took me out for one date, and then you went off with your team, you didn't give me a backwards glance, or a second thought, and that's fine. I love another. I feel like I've been waiting for Draco all my life. I love him," Hermione said. She removed her hand from his.

"He's the son of a Death Eater," Oliver said. "I haven't forgotten what the Malfoys have done, and what they have stood for, and I'm surprised you have."

Hermione hands clenched in fists and said, "Shut up, Oliver Wood! I won't have you saying disparaging remarks about Draco! He was never a Death Eater himself; he was a child when his father followed Voldemort. He's not responsible for what his family did during the war! In addition, he's not the same spoiled, hateful child that he was when we were in school! He's changed. He loves me."

"Really?" Oliver asked, "Tell me again, how long have you two been dating?" He laughed and said, "Because Percy said you just started seeing each other last night. Stop covering. If you don't want to date me, say it plainly, but don't lie and tell me you love someone you don't."

Hermione took a sharp breath in, and just before Draco could enter the house to give Oliver a piece of his mind, Hermione did it for him. "First, Mr. Wood, it doesn't matter how long Draco and I have been dating, because I love him and he loves me, and I don't care who knows it, and I don't care who believes it. You may not understand, and I don't frankly care. I know what I feel is real. Now, please, go back outside, and don't mention this to me again. I have always admired you as a person, so please don't do anything that will skew my view of you as a man."

Draco smiled and sat down beside Harry on the step. "She loves me," Draco said, looking at Harry.

"Yes, it would appear so," Harry said lightly. Oliver opened the door.

"Excuse me gents," he said. They both stood up, so Oliver could pass. Once outside, Oliver said, "Well, Malfoy, you have a good woman in there who loves you a lot. Treat her better than Weasley did, right?" He smiled and offered Draco his hand. Draco shook his hand and walked inside.

Hermione was sitting at the table, with her head resting in her hands. Draco sat beside her, and with his index finger, he drew a line from her shoulder, to her forearm, to her wrist. He took her hand, and kissed the top. "I heard what you said to Wood. So, you defended my honour, huh, Granger?"

She laughed and said, "I hadn't thought of it that way. I thought I was defending my own honour, but I guess you're right." Hermione turned Draco's hand over, and with her other hand, she brushed her fingers lightly over his knuckles. She bent her head, and kissed his hand. She let go of his hand, grabbed his arm, and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I didn't know what to say when Oliver called me out about the fact that we had only been dating for a day," Hermione admitted.

Draco leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "You seemed to have found the right thing to say, however. Bully for you, Granger." He put his arm around her, and kissed her cheek. "Are we going for our walk?"

"No. I'm too tired. I didn't get much sleep last night, you know," she said. "Let's grab an old quilt from the closet, and go sunbath in the field by the house, read a book, and then perhaps I can have a little catnap."

"I have a better plan," Draco said, rising from the table, pulling her up as well. "Let's grab an old quilt from the closet, go sunbathing in the nude, burn all the books in the house, and make love."

She shook her head, laughed, and said, "Let's compromise. Quilt, field, sunbathing, and some snogging. No books, and then, maybe a nap."

"How is that compromising?" he asked.

"I mentioned snogging," Hermione reasoned. "I said no books."

"There's a difference between making out and making love, Granger," he said. He took her hand, tucked it in the crook of his arm, and then with his wand he summoned an old quilt from the closet. He said, "Once we get to our destination, I will show you the subtle difference."

"I can't wait," she said.

They walked hand in hand, quilt tucked under his arm, to the same field of wildflowers where they had looked at the clouds the day before. He smoothed the quilt on the ground, took her hand once again, and led her to the ground. They sat, side by side, each quietly considering the other. He reached out and stroked her face, and touched her lips with his fingertips. Her smile disappeared, and he wondered why. He questioned her with his eyes, his hand once again going to her face. She leaned into his hand. She shut her eyes, and fell back on the quilt. "So, Malfoy, show me the subtle difference between making out and making love."

Draco raised one eyebrow, and then gave her a crooked smile. He leaned over her, his hand forever on her face, guiding her, comforting her, touching her. He bent his head and played with her lips, gently kissing them, as if each kiss was a question…are you alright?... is something wrong?...do you love me? He finally received his answer. Her arms went tightly around his neck, and she kissed his with passion and zeal. He moved to his back, and she rolled on top. She put one hand on top of his hair, the other on his chest. She kissed his jaw, his cheek, and then his collarbone. Her other hand went under his t-shirt, touching his heated skin.

She pushed his shirt up, and started kissing his chest, his nipples. He was slightly amused, and incredibly turned on by her ardor. She pulled his shirt over his head, and continued kissing his chest, moving her lips down his stomach. She moved her hand to the top of his jeans, and undid the top button. She reached up, and pulled the straps of her dress over her shoulders, so that they fell down, exposing her bare breasts. His eyes widened. What was she proposing they do? And here, in broad daylight, so close to her friends? She leaned over him, her soft breasts pressed up against his hard chest. Both of their arousals were apparent. She placed her whole body over his, and again began to move her mouth down his chest.

He pushed her away for a moment, and said, "What's gotten into you, Granger?"

She misunderstood, and thought that her initiative was being mistaken as intrusiveness. She sat away from him, her arms over her chest, and said, "I'm so sorry, Draco." She put her arms in the straps of the pink sundress, and pulled it back over her chest. She moved away from him, but he reached out and pulled her back.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing was wrong, but now, I'm not sure," she said, removing her hand from his. She stood up.

"Granger?" He came to stand beside her. He reached down and grabbed his t-shirt, slipping it quickly back on his body.

"Leave me alone, Draco," she said, as she started to walk away briskly. He reached her quickly, and turned her around.

"What in the world has come over you?" he asked, confused.

"Nothing! I guess you don't like my advances, and that's fine. I can live with that," she said, her face red with fury.

He laughed at her. She looked angry. "Hermione, you are such a silly person. What are you hiding?" he asked.

"I'm hiding nothing, what you see is what you get," she said. She felt sad and defeated, and she wasn't even sure why. She wanted to run far away, but he still had her hand. He pulled her up to him.

"I didn't stop you because I wanted to stop," he whispered in her ear. He kissed her cheek. With her still tightly in his embrace, he said, "I stopped you because you would have wanted me to stop, eventually. You would have regretted it and you know that's true. You would have been angry with yourself, and with me, afterwards. We couldn't do that, not here, not now."

She buried her head in his neck. "You know me better than I know myself, Malfoy." She looked up at him and said, "And you're right, I would have regretted that later. But, I think I will regret not doing it more. I'm so confused. You confuse me. Why do you confuse me?"

He glared at her for a moment, and then moved his hands from around her body, down her arms, where he clasped her hands tightly. "It's weird you would say that you're confused, because for the first time in my life, I'm so utterly aware of how I feel, and I'm not confused in the least. I'm enlightened. I'm anti-confused."

She couldn't help but smile. "Now, you're really making up words."

"Enlightened is a word," he said smugly.

"Anti-confused?" she asked.

"Oh, well, that might not be a word," he conceded. "Why are you confused?"

"I'm not so much confused as I am scared. I'm scared that we might not be real, and then I'm scared that we are, I'm confused how we can be in love after spending less than 24 hours together, I'm anxious about what others will think, I'm baffled over the way you feel for me, I'm mystified over whether this is real love. I want to make love to you, right now, out here in the open, not caring who sees, and yet, that's not me at all. I'm CONFUSED!" Hermione threw her hands in the air, and laughed. "What are you doing to me?"

"Hermione, I need you to listen to me," Draco said, suddenly serious. "There are no easy answers here. Everything isn't black or white. It's okay to question things, and be confused. I'm confused, too. Here's a woman, who I previously only gave a passing glance. I thought you were bright and beautiful, but I would never have thought that we would have had a chance together, but here we are, and we do. Let's just let this be out of our hands. Let's just let this be what it will be."

She stared at him for a minute, and threw her arms around him. She kissed his lips and said, "You're right."

"Of course I am."

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	31. Chapter 31

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**Chapter 31 – **

Draco pulled Hermione over to his body, and embraced her tightly. His fingertips brushed lightly down her spine, feeling every ridge. Even though it was a very warm summer day, she had goose bumps form on her flesh, and a chill went down her spine, her skins tingling where his fingertips had just been.

"You excite me," she said honestly.

He laughed and said, "Is that so?" He touched her chin, bringing his finger slowly around to her jaw, and then down her neck, to rest his entire hand on her chest, at the opening of her dress, above her breast. "Does this excite you?" he whispered.

"A bit," she said. Hermione bit her bottom lip, trying hard not to smile. His hand went down the valley in the center of her breasts, to her waist. He put his hand on her hip, massaging it lightly.

"Does this excite you as well?" he asked, hoarsely, bringing her closer.

"Slightly," she answered, lying through her teeth. The truth was she was incredibly aroused.

He put both hands on her shoulders, and let them travel down her arms. He linked his fingers in hers, bringing her body flush against his. Their upper bodies were touching, not even a hairsbreadth away, her nipples reacting to the closeness, by becoming hard and erect, and pressed against the thin cotton of his borrowed t-shirt. He nuzzled his nose next to her ear. "Do you find this encounter exciting?"

"Yes," she said, completely paralyzed. That familiar tingling in her stomach was traveling to all other regions of her body.

He kissed her bottom lip only, and then steered her back toward the quilt. He lowered her to her back, hovering his body above hers. His hand flat on her stomach, he lowered his lips to her collarbone. His hand traveled down to her dress covered thighs, repeating his actions from earlier, when they were watching the game. His mouth continued to trail small, wet kisses all across her exposed flesh. His hand inched up her dress, until it rested completely on her bare thigh. He leaned over, to his back, bringing her with him.

His mouth held hers in a kiss, as his hand went to her backside. He cupped her buttocks, and he said, "How is this?"

"Oh, Draco," she said. She moved her face back to his, to kiss him once more. His right hand continued to press on her bum, as his left hand pressed hard on her back.

He moved to his side, and brought the hand that was on her bum to her chest, resting it on her dress-covered breast. His hand, not daring to move, remained motionless, but still, he could feel her desire. He was breathing hard, and he removed his lips from hers and said, "You certainly have a certain affect on me as well, Hermione."

She parted from him, and both hands under his shirt, as she did earlier. She leaned back toward him, kissing him again. He pulled her as close to him as humanly possible. A very annoying person calling their names brought them down from their passion-induced haze.

"HERMIONE!" Ginny yelled. "DRACO!"

Draco rolled Hermione over to her back, and with much aggravation said, "I HATE THIS FAMILY!"

"No you don't," she said, struggling to sit up. He pushed her back down, covering her body with his. Hermione pushed on his shoulders with her hands. He refused to budge. She tried to call out to Ginny, but he quickly covered her mouth with his, kissing her open mouth as hard and long as he could.

A shadow fell over their bodies, and Ginny said, "Can't you two give it a rest?"

Draco looked over his shoulder and said, "I heard you calling, Mrs. Potter, but Hermione wouldn't let me answer you. In fact, she forced herself on me. She practically raped me."

Hermione huffed and pushed him away. He fell on his back, putting his hands over his eyes to block the sun. Ginny reached down and helped Hermione stand up. "You should be ashamed, Hermione," Ginny laughed. "Come on, Oliver is leaving and he wants to tell you both goodbye."

The girls started walking back down the hill, hand in hand, when Hermione turned around and said, "Are you coming, Draco, darling?"

"Don't 'darling' me. You're picking Oliver Wood over me." He remained on the ground.

The girls were out of sight, but he heard Hermione say, "Draco? Come with me, please."

"NO! Tell that bastard goodbye for me," Draco said. Another shadow fell over Draco, and he opened his eyes.

"You can tell me yourself," Oliver said. Beside Oliver was Hermione, Ginny and Harry, all with smiles on their faces.

"Goodbye, you bastard," Draco said, completely unabashed, propped up on his elbows, still on the ground, on his back. Behind Oliver, Ginny and Harry were openly laughing. Hermione looked shocked.

Oliver turned to Hermione and took her hand. He kissed her knuckles and said, "If you two decide tomorrow that you've been dating too long, give me a call." He smiled at her, and she looked down at Draco. Draco popped up and stood behind her. He put his arm around Hermione's waist, and took her hand out of Oliver's grasp.

"We just might be married by tomorrow," Draco said.

Oliver laughed and said, "That I would like to see."

"Well, maybe you will," Draco snapped. "Then again, we probably won't invite you." He pulled Hermione behind his body and said, "Now, weren't you leaving?"

Oliver laughed again, and Draco thought he was laughing at them, and he was about to give the retreating figure a piece of his mind, but Hermione's hand on his arm kept him in place. Harry and Ginny walked after Oliver, back down the hill.

"I think I hate that man," Draco said.

"He's a nice man," Hermione said. Draco turned around to her, and before he could refute what she said, she added, "but, he was making fun of our relationship, and I don't like that. That was uncalled for." Draco studied her face for a moment, and he saw that she was sincere. She was not just saying that for his benefit. He brushed her cheek with his knuckles.

"Shall I go find him and beat him to a bloody pulp?" Draco asked.

"Why do you always want to go around 'thrashing' people, and beating them to a 'bloody pulp'? Who even talks like that, Draco? I seriously question what century you're from," Hermione said, smiling.

"I say things like that, missy, and I'll show you what century I'm from." He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. He put one hand over her bum, to keep her from slipping. His other hand held one of her bare legs.

She screamed, "Put me down!"

"I don't think so. This is how people from the past centuries treated their women," he said, walking down the hill with her.

Her hands were on his back, and she said, "Maybe cavemen! Put me down, this is embarrassing!"

"Make me," he laughed back. He was almost back to the house, and most of the Weasleys were sitting on the front porch. They were pointing and laughing at the pair.

"Did she break her ankle?" George called out.

"I bet she forgot how to walk," Charlie said.

"Maybe he's finally decided to show her who wears the pants," Bill said.

"I don't think she seems happy," Fleur stated the obvious.

Harry came out of the front door, as Hermione was still yelling at Draco to put her down. He walked off the porch and said, "Unhand my friend, Draco."

Draco stopped walking and said to Hermione, "And you think I'm from another century. Who says, 'unhand my friend', Hermione?"

Hermione twisted her head to look over her shoulder. Harry made it easier for her, by walking to the back of Malfoy. "Harry, make him put me down."

"How?" Harry smiled.

"Tell him you'll beat the shite out of him if he doesn't," Hermione said. Draco hit her hard on her backside. "OUCH!" she yelled.

"Seriously, Granger, watch your language. There's a child playing in the yard." Draco hit her once more. She kicked her legs.

"I am utterly embarrassed!" Hermione proclaimed. Harry walked back over to the front of the pair.

"Malfoy, enough, put her down," Harry said seriously. He could tell that she was genuinely embarrassed. He actually held out his arms. Draco smirked, but threw her off his shoulders, into his arms, and then deposited her in Harry's waiting arms. Harry placed her down on the ground.

Hermione glared at Draco and said, "That was stupid!"

"I thought it was fun," he said.

"I hope you're proud of yourself!" Hermione spat.

"I am, for I'm shocked I could even lift you. I'm stronger than I thought," Draco said, walking away from her, to join the others on the porch. Everyone laughed at his joke.

He looked back over at her, smiling, but saw that she was still standing in the same place, and she had a sad expression on her face. Dammit! He caused her distress again. He made fun of her, egged on by the crowd, just as he used to do in school, only the difference now was that he loved her, and even though he liked being the center of attention, he really did not want to hurt her feelings. Harry gave Draco a dirty look, and took Hermione's hand, leading her around to the side of the house.

Draco started to follow, but Ginny put her hand on his arm. "Let Harry talk to her," Ginny said.

"He will probably tell her, 'See, I told you he was a prat'," Draco said.

"He might say that, but he will also remind her to lighten up, and remind her that she is among people who love her, and wish her nothing but happiness, and that includes you," Ginny stated. He turned to Ginny, and nodded. He hoped she was right. "Let's go help mum with lunch. She had a chore she wanted you and Hermione to do, but since Hermione is indisposed, because of you, I might add, you and I will have to do it." Ginny grabbed Draco's hand, and started around the side of the house.

"You all eat lunch early around here, huh?" he asked.

"No, we will eat in an hour and a half, but we have things to get ready. Mum is making a large green salad. You and I are going to go out and pick some vegetables from the vegetable patch," Ginny said.

Draco looked at her incredulously and asked, "Why don't we go to the grocery store, instead?"

"Because we have a vegetable patch, you git," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. They approached the vegetable patch, and Ginny entered the wire fence. She looked back and said, "Come on, Malfoy."

Draco looked at his hands. "Will I get dirt on my hands?"

"For Merlin's sakes," Hermione said from behind him. She was smiling. Her eyes were red, brimmed with recent tears, but she was smiling.

He walked up to her tentatively, grasped her face with his hands, and said, "I am so sorry, Hermione. The old bully in me came out, I made fun of you, and had a laugh at your expense, and it was unbelievably moronic and wrong. I am so sorry. I want to be a better person than I once was."

Hermione looked at the ground and said, "It's funny you should say that, for I almost felt like I was back in school, and you were calling me 'Mudblood' again, and making fun of my hair and teeth."

He bent his head, to look in her eyes. He put one hand under her chin. "I am so sorry. Am I forgiven?"

"You know, if we can't get past something like this, when real trouble comes at us, what will we do? Harry pointed that out," Hermione said. Draco looked back, as Harry was helping his wife with the vegetables.

"Potter's not completely hopeless, is he?" Draco said. He put his arms around her and said, "Let them finish with the manual labour. We should get back to our sunbathing."

Harry overheard, and looked up. "No, since Ginny and I are doing what Molly originally asked you and Hermione to do, you can do mine and Ginny's job."

Draco sneered and said, "What pray-tell was your job?"

Harry laughed and said, "Go up to the house, and find out for yourselves." He laughed again, and Ginny laughed along with him.

"Goodness, Malfoy, what have you gotten us into?" Hermione asked, taking his hand and leading him to the house.

"You share the blame, Granger," he said. "If you hadn't run off crying like a baby, we would be safe and sound in the vegetable patch right now."

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	32. Chapter 32

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**Chapter 32 - **

Hermione would ignore Draco's ranting. It was not her fault. She was not off crying…

No, she would not ignore his ranting after all. "I didn't run off crying like a baby. And if you hadn't been afraid to get your hands dirty, than you would be safe and sound picking vegetables right this minute!"

She let go of his hand, and opened the screen door. Mrs. Weasley and Fleur were rolling out dough on the table. "Hermione, dear, have you seen Ginny and Harry? And, where are the vegetables?"

Hermione looked at Draco, and then back to Molly. "Harry and Ginny are picking the vegetables. They sent us in to do their chore."

Fleur snickered, and Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Do you know what their chore is?"

"No," Hermione said slowly, somewhat afraid. Draco stood behind Hermione, even more afraid than she was.

"Go upstairs, to Bill's old room, and he'll explain," Fleur said. Draco took Hermione's hand and led them upstairs.

"Maybe they want us to test out a mattress or something," Draco joked.

"You are a git," Hermione stated. They walked down the hall to Bill's old room. He was sitting on the bed, holding a crying, screaming, mud-covered toddler.

"Hi, Hermione, where's Ginny?" Bill asked, standing with his daughter in his hands.

"She's outside. Your mum told us to come and see what chore you had in store for us," Hermione said.

Bill got an almost evil grin on his face. "You and Malfoy are going to do Ginny's chore?" he asked.

"Maybe," Hermione stated, fearful.

"Hold out your hands, Malfoy," Bill said. Draco looked over at Hermione, and then to Bill, and then held out his hands. Bill deposited his crying daughter in Draco's arms. Draco held the child out, far from his body, as if she was a poisonous vermin or something.

"After her bath, put her down for a nap," Bill said. He walked down the hall, laughing the entire way.

"Take her!" Draco said, holding her out toward Hermione.

"Why me?" Hermione asked back.

Still holding the screaming child out in front of him, he said, "Because you are the woman. You hold the child."

"You ARE a caveman," Hermione said, backing away.

Draco took two steps closer, and said, "Take her, she's filthy, and she smells bad."

Hermione hid behind the door. "I'm not good with children."

"Do you think I am?" he asked.

"You're closer to her intellect, and you're about as mature," Hermione said, completely behind the door.

He moved the door away from her with his foot and demanded, "Take this effing child!"

"You keep her. Why should we both get dirty, anyway, you're closer to her age," Hermione pleaded.

"That makes no sense! Take her, please," Draco almost whined. The baby cried louder.

"Seriously, Malfoy, you hold her, I'll get the water ready," Hermione reasoned. She ran out of the bedroom, toward the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Draco walked to the bathroom, and kicked the door opened with his foot, since his hands were occupied.

"Granger, take this child from me! Seriously, it's crying, it's dirty, and I think it might have soiled itself!"

Hermione opened the door, and said, "I think she's two years old. She probably goes to the potty on her own, so she probably did not…oh, goodness, I think you are right. She smells really bad!" Hermione backed up, her hands in front of her.

"Take this kid, now!" Draco yelled. The baby cried louder still.

"Draco, you're scaring her," Hermione said, now laughing. "You're scaring me as well."

"Well, she's scaring me," Draco said back. Hermione turned off the water, and tested it. It was too hot. She turned the cold back on for a moment.

Soon, Victoire stopped crying, because Malfoy, who still had his hands straight out in front of him, was swinging her back and forth, like a pendulum of a clock. Hermione looked up when she finally got the water the right temperature and said, "That seems to be working. She likes that." Hermione looked at the baby and said, "Tick, Tock, Victoire's a clock, a very, very, dirty clock!" The baby smiled. Hermione smiled. Draco blanched.

"Take her please," Draco said.

Hermione took the baby, and sat on the floor. Draco went to the opened bathroom door, and stood in the threshold. "Why are you all the way over there?" Hermione asked, stripping the child's shoes and socks off her.

"I might have to make a hasty retreat," he said. "I want to be close to the door, when you pull her little pants off her, just in case."

That actually had Hermione worried as well. Since her little shorts and panties were all that were left, Hermione put the baby on her back, on the bathroom rug, and started to strip the remaining clothing. Draco held his nose. Hermione peered at the baby and said, "Oh, GOODNESS!"

Draco ran out of the room, screaming. "Yuck! That is disgusting! No manners what so ever!"

"Draco, come in here and help me!" Hermione yelled.

"I don't know what to do!" he yelled from the hallway, his hands in the air.

Hermione felt like crying. "I don't either!" She wrapped the dirty panties and shorts in the bathmat, and put it in the corner. She took a washcloth and cleaned her up. She almost threw up twice. Finally, she looked at the door and said, "Malfoy, the coast is clear, come back."

He inched his face back toward the door. "Did you get all the poop?"

Hermione laughed. "Yes, I got all the poop!" She put the baby in the tub, kneeled by the side, and with a clean rag, started washing her, as she splashed around. Draco came and sat on the edge of the tub. Hermione rinse the baby's blond hair, and put some shampoo on her scalp. She washed her hair. She took a cup and began to rinse her hair.

Draco was mesmerized. His eyes never left Hermione once. He said, "You said you didn't know how to do this."

"Well, I've never done it before," she said, "but, it's pretty easy. After all, I know how to take a bath, so I guess I know how to give one."

"You will have to give me one someday, and I will give you an honest review of your skills," he teased with a smile. She looked up and smiled as well. She went back to splashing with the baby. Draco thought Hermione looked so beautiful. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Then he kissed the top of the baby's head.

"This wasn't too hard," Draco said.

"You didn't do anything," Hermione stated.

"I held her," Draco pointed out.

"Well, get a clean towel, and you can hold her again," Hermione said. Draco stood up and got a big fluffy towel from the cupboard. He held it out, and Hermione deposited the wet toddler in his arms. He wrapped her up and followed Hermione to the other room. Hermione said, "Bill left her some clean cloths. Let's get her dressed."

Hermione finished drying her, and she sat with the baby on her lap. She struggled to dress her. "I can't get her arms in the sleeves," Hermione said.

"Didn't you ever dress your little baby dolls?" Draco laughed.

"Sure, but they didn't wiggle around, and if I had trouble putting their arms in the sleeves, I could just take the arm off, and then reattach it," Hermione said.

"I wouldn't recommend that with her," he snickered.

"HA, HA!" she responded.

She finally got her dressed, sans shoe and socks. "Draco, put her socks on her. At least do something useful."

Draco sat on the floor, in front of Hermione's legs and reached up as Hermione held the baby on her lap, brushing the baby's hair. He took her little foot, and put one sock on. He started to put the other one on, but instead, he smelled the baby's foot and said, "Eww, stinky!"

Victoire laughed. So did Hermione. Draco tickled her foot and then put the last sock on. Hermione stood up and said, "Go find a book we can read to her." Hermione fell back on the small bed, with the baby by her side. Draco came back in the room and handed Hermione a book. Hermione looked at the cover and said, "Magical Beast and How to Kill them?"

"I couldn't find anything else," he said.

"Go to Ginny's old room. There is a whole bookshelf of children's books in there, seriously," Hermione told him. She threw the other book on the floor.

Draco came back in with a book of fairytales. Hermione was on her side, as the baby was on her back, and she began to read. Draco stood at the foot of the bed, and watched. Finally, he said, "May I join you?" Hermione continued to read, but nodded her head. Draco crawled up on the bed, behind Hermione, and put his arms around her. He rested his cheek next to hers. It truly was not long before the baby was sleeping. Hermione looked over her shoulder, and Draco had his eyes shut as well.

Hermione put the book down, and sat up. She crawled off the bed, careful not to disturb the baby. She leaned over Malfoy and said, "Draco?"

He opened his eyes. "I wasn't sleeping. I was just enjoying the moment. That was one of the best moments of my life."

Hermione put her hand on his cheek, and leaned down and kissed his mouth tenderly. "Even the poopy pants part?" she asked, as she stood back up. Draco stood up beside her.

"Well, I could have lived without that, but what do you expect, the child, even though she is half Fleur, is still half Weasley, too." Draco looked back over to the bed, as Hermione arranged the covers on the baby's legs. She put a pillow on each side of her and then took Draco's hand, walked out the room, and closed the door so it was only open a crack.

As soon as they were in the hall, she put her arms around his neck and placed her cheek next to his. "You will make a wonderful father."

"Are you trying to tell me something, because honestly, isn't it a little early to be pregnant already?" he joked.

"I meant, someday," she said. She rested her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair.

"You are the natural. I fell in love with you all over again, just seeing how sweet and natural you were with the baby," Draco lauded, "I just might have to keep you barefoot and pregnant."

"Caveman," Hermione said, smacking his arm.

"Cavewoman," Draco laughed back.

Hermione said, "The front of my dress is still damp. Take your wand and dry me off, please."

"I have a better idea," Draco said, leading her to Ginny's old room.

Hermione was curious, excited, and slightly weary all in one. She followed him in Ginny's room, and watched as he shut the door.

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	33. Chapter 33

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**Chapter 33 -  
**

Hermione was curious. What was he proposing, and why was she so blindly following? Seriously, the worse (best?) thing he could do was remove her dress, dry it in some fashion, and perhaps that would be interesting.

She eyed him cautiously as she crossed the doorway, and watched wearily as he shut the door. "What are your proposing, Malfoy?" she asked.

"I'm going to dry your dress," he said, his eyebrows going up and down quickly.

"With your wand?"

"No," he said, taking her arms, and rubbing his hands up and down them. He pulled her closer to the middle of the room.

"With my wand?"

"Granger, Granger, Granger, no magic will be used at all," he said. He put his hand on the front of the sundress, directly under the swell of her breasts. "Yes, still quite damp."

"Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"I'm not taking off my dress," she said.

"Goodness, you are forward. I would never expect you to do that," he said, falling to his knees.

"MALFOY!" she said tersely. She looked back at the closed door. Did he lock it? Good, he did.

"GRANGER!" he mocked. He put his hands on her backside, pulling her closer. He looked around her body quickly to see if he locked the door. He did.

He pulled her closer, and he started to blow gently on the material of the dress. From his position on the floor, on his knees, his face was level with the wet spot on the front. Hermione looked down at him, only seeing the top of his beautiful blond head.

"Do you intend to blow it dry?" she asked sarcastically. Inside, her organs felt like gelatin, her legs like rubber.

He continued to blow on the pink cotton dress, pulling her even closer. His right hand rested on her hip, his left hand went around to the back of her right calf, and it moved up and down.

"Draco?" she asked, breathlessly.

"Yes?" he asked back, softly. He stopped blowing for a moment to look up at her.

"Why?"

"What?" he asked.

"I mean, why are you doing this to me?" she asked so quietly, he almost could not hear. He stood up. He looked at her intently, and she was not sure how to decipher his glare. She asked again, "Do you know what you're doing to me?"

"Hermione," he said slowly, one hand on her neck, the other on her back. "Do you want to know why or what? One question at a time."

"Don't patronize me," she said. She seemed sad.

"I would never dream of that," he said sincerely. He leaned toward her and nibbled on her neck. Small kisses, up and down, directly over her pulse point. Hermione wanted to melt. She almost did. Before she knew what was happening, he had her in his arms, and placed her on the bed. He hovered over her, his hand on her stomach, his other hand under her head. He leaned forward again, and kissed her exposed chest, over the opening of the dress. He lifted his head, and blew on the dress again.

She put one hand over her eyes and said, "That will take a dreadfully long time to dry the dress that way."

He laughed. He thought she was adorable when she was sexually frustrated. "Maybe I don't give a hoot about drying your dress. What would you say to that, Miss Granger?"

"I would say I believe you," she whispered, moving her hand away from her eyes. She put it in his hair. His face was so close to hers. He might as well kiss her. His mouth played with hers, tugging, pulling, sinking deeper and deeper in the lushness of her lips.

Hermione put her hands on his shoulders, and pushed him up.

"That's enough for now," she said. Her eyes looked cloudy. He looked at her brooding.

"Why is that enough? It's not enough for me." He leaned down for another kiss. She pushed him back before his lips could seek out hers again.

"Draco, it's almost lunchtime, on a Sunday, and we're at the Burrow. What do you expect from me? Please."

She had a point.

"So, it's nothing to do with me, right?" he asked for confirmation. "You aren't frigid, or repulsed? You have not changed your mind about me? You only want to stop because it's almost lunch, on a Sunday, at the Burrow?" he asked.

She sat up and he did, too. "Don't ask me stupid questions," she condemned. She put her feet on the floor, walked over to her dirty clothes from yesterday, which were folded in a neat pile in the corner, retrieved her wand, and dried her dress.

She started for the exit and he sprang from the bed, beating her to the door. He was smiling. He put his hand back on her dress and said, "My, your way was faster."

"Draco!" she said.

"What?" he asked.

"You're confusing me," she whined. She moved back over to sit on the bed. "This is so different and strange and you are so tender and sweet and what does all this mean?"

"It means nothing or it means everything," he answered cryptically.

"Don't be daft. That's a load of hogwash. Do you really think you're in love with me?" she asked. He came and sat next to her, taking her hand.

"I don't think I am, I know I am," he said, now suddenly as serious as she was. "This isn't a lark, and I'm not just having fun. This is genuine. Why do you doubt this is real?"

"So, seriously," she began, "when this day is over, you mean to keep seeing me?"

Draco took a deep breath and then said, "I thought we already had this subject talked to death and buried. Yes, Hermione, I mean to keep seeing you, tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, and the one after that, and so on, and so forth, etcetera, etcetera, infinity."

She smiled. That was what she needed to hear. She stood up, her hand still in his, and said, "Let's go see what else we can do to help with lunch." She started to pull him forward, but he stayed on the bed.

"Hermione, answer a question before we go down, please," he asked, suddenly pensive.

"What?" she asked, turning to face him, her hand still holding tight to his.

"If I asked you to marry me, right now, right here, and I meant it sincerely, what would you say?" he asked.

"Are you asking me, right here, right now?" she said, more pensive than he was before.

"I might be," he claimed. "Furthermore, what if I ask you, right now, right here, to marry me, and I said I wanted to do it as soon as possible, say, by 1:00 pm. Twenty-four hours from the beginning or our relationship. What would you say to that?"

"That would be impossible!" she laughed. She picked up his wrist, to look at his watch. "It's 11:33! We cannot get married in an hour and a half. It's a Sunday, so we could not even get a marriage license, since most of the Ministry is closed today, and we couldn't find an officiate in that short of a time, or a ring, or a dress, or anything. You are crazy!"

"That's not my question, and that's not your concern. Just answer me, yes or no. Would you say yes if I asked you, or not?" He suddenly stood up, looked at her anxiously, and pulled on both her arms. "Come on Granger, leap of faith here, and show me your Gryffindor courage! YES OR NO?"

"YES!" she blurted out.

"YES?" he questioned.

"YES!" she said, laughing and shaking all over. "MY ANSWER IS YES!"

"Then leave it to me!" he said. He ran down the stairs. She went to stand by the top of the stairs, and she scarcely knew what to think or do. She was about to run after him, when he came running back upstairs, kissed her soundly on the lips, and said, "I will be right back! You tell the Weasleys to hold off lunch, and it can serve as our reception!"

She remained on the top step for many long moments after he left. Harry Potter came bounding up the stairs and said, "Where the hell did Malfoy go in such a hurry? He yelled something about a wedding."

"We're getting married," Hermione said calmly.

"No you aren't," Harry said smiling. "You haven't even really dated yet."

"No, we are," she corrected.

"Okay, fine, when is the happy event?" Harry inquired sarcastically, leaning against the wall, bringing his hand up to brush her cheek.

"One o'clock," she said, smugly.

"Yeah, right," Harry laughed, "One o'clock today? That's funny."

"Why do you think that's funny?" Hermione frowned. She pushed past him and started walking down the stairs. He ran after.

"You aren't getting married!" Harry implored.

"Who's getting married?" Ginny asked, walking into the kitchen as Harry and Hermione walked down the stairs.

"Malfoy and I," she said calmly, standing in the middle of the kitchen.

Ginny laughed once and said, "Oh, and pray tell, when is the happy event?" She thought it was a joke, too. She thought it was more of their 'speed relationship' rubbish.

Harry pushed past Hermione and said to his wife, "One o'clock, today! A little over an hour from now!"

"NO!" Ginny hissed. She turned to Hermione and repeated, "NO!" She put her hands on Hermione's shoulders and shook her hard. "We've all enjoyed seeing you two prance around here the last two days, and no one is happier, that you're happy, than I, but you can't marry a man you barely know! Especially Draco Malfoy!" As Ginny was shaking her friend, all of the other Weasleys were slowly entering the kitchen, to see the reason for the raised voices.

Everyone else started shouting at her, things like, "Is this because of Ron?" and, "Be rational!" Someone even said, "He's not good enough for you." Hermione looked at her pseudo family, shook her head, and as tears formed in her eyes, she ran out the back door, and kept running.

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	34. Chapter 34

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**Chapter 34 - **

Hermione did not stop running until she felt a stitch in her side, and she could no longer breathe. She did not even know where she was, for she was so far away from the Burrow. She sat down on the ground, hugged her knees to her body, and began to cry.

They were right. They were all right. She could not marry a man she had not even dated. That was not like her. She was just reacting to the fact that Ron had just gotten married. This was too fast, and too soon.

Nevertheless, why did it feel so right?

She knew what was in her heart. She knew she loved Draco. Why could no one else see that? Why did it matter what they thought?

Ginny even had the gall to say they were 'prancing around' for the past two days. Is that what they all thought? Everyone was just humouring her. No one was really being supportive. That hurt. That cut Hermione to the quick. That hurt more than Ron leaving her did.

So what if she had not been dating Draco for years? She dated Ron for years and look where that got her. All that mattered was what she wanted. Hermione was never a selfish person. She always acted for the benefit of others. For once, in her life, she wanted to do what she wanted to do. She wanted to marry Draco Malfoy. End of story.

She stood up and began to walk again. Perhaps she should just go home. If only she had her wand, she could just disapparate away. That was what she wanted to do. Just go away and never come back here. This place used to be the most important place to her, outside of her own home and Hogwarts. She had some of the best times of her life at the Burrow, and that included the last 24 hours. She would go back and face them all. They deserved that much.

Draco had only been gone for twenty minutes. He could work fast when he wanted to. He had a friend who worked in the registry office of the Ministry. They quickly worked to obtain the license. He knew another person who was licensed to perform marriages. He contacted that man and he said he would meet him at the Burrow by one o'clock. He owled her parents, merely saying that he was a friend of Hermione's, and he would send someone to collect them by one pm, to bring them to the Burrow, for their daughter was getting married. He could not do anything about the rings, or the dress. Surely, none of that really mattered. He walked back in the house, expecting a celebration, and instead, he saw every single inhabitant of the house sitting around the kitchen table, heads hanging low, frowns gracing their features, hands clasped in front of them. He took a quick survey and said, "Where's Hermione?"

Harry stood up and said, "We don't know. She ran away. Malfoy, you cannot be seriously contemplating marriage!"

"What the hell did you all say to her?" he demanded.

Ginny stood up, "We are her friends, Malfoy! We just wanted to bring her to her senses. She has been on this little, 'love high' for the past 24 hours, but we wanted her to face reality. None of this is real!"

Draco glared at Harry and asked, "What have you done?"

"We told her the truth! She has to face the truth, Malfoy," Harry explained. "This isn't real love! You don't fall in love with someone in one day! This will only bring her more heartache and pain in the long run."

"How dare you," Draco spat. "How dare you all! You claim to love her, and wish nothing but the best for her, but when the best comes along, you throw her to the wolves. I don't give a shite what any of you think or say! I love her and I want to make her happy! I want to marry her. I thought we could do it here, among her friends, her family, but I guess not. It is happening, whether you all want it to or not. Either you can be supportive, or you can lose her. Your choice."

He ran out the back door, and looked around. He yelled, "HERMIONE!" He started running. He had no idea where she was, or how to find her, he only knew that find her he must.

Hermione was on her way back to the Burrow; at least, she thought she was. She was actually slightly lost, as she had run off willy-nilly in all directions. She heard Draco yelling her name. She ran toward the sound of his voice.

She was in a dense wooded area, and she stopped by a tree to catch her breath. Draco started to walk in the woods, and he saw her. "Hermione?" he asked. He ran up to her. He saw her tear soaked cheeks. He dare not touch her. Instead, he said, "Before you say or do anything, know this one truth. I love you."

She began to cry again, and threw herself in his arms. "They are all right, you know."

He pushed her slightly away from him, to look at her. "No, they aren't. They are not right. We are right. What we feel is right. Do you want to marry me?"

"Yes," she said, for she did, and she was not up to lying.

"Do you want to marry me because you love me, or because you want to be married?" he asked again.

"I want to marry you because I love you," she said softly. She put her cheek next to his chest. He stroked her back. Her skin felt so warm and soft under his touch.

"I want to marry you because I love you as well." He kissed the top of her head. "The marriage license, the officiate, as well as your parents are on the way. Do we do this here, or somewhere else?"

"Maybe we should do this somewhere else," she said humbly. If the Weasleys and Harry did not support this, there was no reason to include them. She understood their reservations; she harbored them also, but she also knew what she wanted deep down in her heart. The man before her was her future. He was what she wanted. She knew that she wanted to marry him the moment she walked out of the chapel yesterday afternoon, and saw him waiting for her. She felt that way all day long yesterday, long before he first kissed her, long before he first proclaimed his love, long before they first shared their passion. The truth was this was real to her, and in the end, that was all that really mattered.

He took her fingertips, and kissed them lightly. "Let us at least go tell them goodbye," he said. He took her arm, hooked it over his, and walked with her back toward the house.

When they reached the back garden, the tent from Ron and Pansy's wedding, the one that was up during the reception yesterday, was back in place. Chairs were set up, with a makeshift aisle between them. Hermione saw her mum and dad standing there, actually smiling, as well as all the Weasleys. She could not contain her joy, or her tears. She began to cry.

Harry ran up to her and said, "I am so sorry, Hermione. I just love you so much that I wanted you to do the right thing, but you know what, this is the right thing. He will make you happy. I want you to be happy." He kissed her cheek.

She turned to Draco and said, "No turning back, Malfoy. If you're sure, we will do this thing, as crazy as it sounds. Tell me, are you sure?"

"I'm sure. This way, stupid Oliver Wood will not be able to ask you out again, either. See, I've covered all my bases." He smiled back.

"Give us a moment, everyone," she said. She took Draco's hand, and led him away from the crowd. She squeezed his hand and asked, "What about your parents?"

"We will tell them when the time is right. They would ruin everything. I don't want anything to ruin us," he said truthfully. "Besides, they would probably want to come in here and run the whole show." He tried to smile, to reassure her.

"Okay, Malfoy, but if this ends up not working, and we end up hating each other, I'm going to kick your arse," she said, pointing her finger at him. He took the finger that was presently in front of his face, and put it in his mouth, biting down hard.

"Ouch, you prat!" she winced.

"Lesson number one, it's rude to point," he said, leading her back to the crowd.

She stopped them, by refusing to walk any further. Hermione said, "Lesson number two, it's rude to bite your intended."

He leaned toward her and whispered, "Too bad, I intend to bite my intended a lot tonight."

She gave him a smothering look and said, "I might bite back."

"I hope so," he responded. He drew his finger down her face, across her mouth, and she did indeed give it a little nip.

"Let's get the ten lessons to a long and healthy marriage out in the open, Hermione," Draco said, his finger safely removed from her mouth. "I am always right, Lesson three."

"Oh really?" she almost laughed. "I'm not sure I agree with that one. Lesson four, don't spout off lessons unless you're one-hundred percent sure they're well grounded in fact."

Okay, he thought. He leaned toward her and said, "I just thought of Lesson five. Lesson five is, Hermione is always right, which mitigates lesson three, but there you go. I think if I subscribe to this one little lesson, my life will be less complicated."

"How true," she said. She cocked her head to the side and then leaned in and kissed his lips tenderly. "I have Lesson six. Do you want to know what it is?"

"Maybe," he said, bringing his arms around her waist.

"Lesson six is that Draco is the sweetest, funniest, person I have ever met, and I will always trust and love him, for all the days of my life." Hermione put her cheek next to his. She ended by whispering in his ear, "And I love him, no matter what the masses think."

"Lesson seven," he said with his face next to hers, "don't let the bastards bring you down."

Hermione said, "That's one I've always agreed with. Lesson eight is that blowing on a sundress will never get it dry."

He gave her a funny look and said, "Well, Lesson nine is trust me when I say a child has poopy pants."

"How eloquent, and how true," she said. "So, I guess I get to come up with the last lesson, right, Draco?"

"If you must. I can't wait to hear what you have to say," he said. "Although, keep in mind, I reserve the right to veto any lessons I don't agree with."

"Of course, therefore, my last lesson is, Hermione is always right," she said.

"Wait! That was lesson five!" he said. "You wasted a whole lesson."

"I thought it needed repeated," she said. Hermione was biting her bottom lip, and he came up and bit in gently, taking it between his teeth. He then kissed her long and sound.

"Biting, remember?" he reminded her. He brought her arms around his waist, and put his mouth on hers, where he played with her lips gently before finally kissing her. He turned them both back and round, and when they had almost reached the others, he added, "Oh, I forgot something. Wait right there!" He ran back into the house. What was he going to do now?

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	35. Chapter 35

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**Chapter 35 - **

Hermione stood anxiously outside the house, waiting for her fiancé. Ha! She grinned wider than a cat when she thought of that term, 'her fiancé'. She always wanted to have a fiancé, and here she was only going to have one for an hour. Where was the fun in that? This was all going by too fast, their dating, their love affair, their engagement, and now their wedding. She was not able to enjoy any of it. She thought for a brief moment, should they get married right now, or should they wait? Wouldn't it be just as romantic if they just announced their engagement to everyone, and then got married, say, one year from today?

No, no, no. She was not going to doubt herself now. She should not second-guess herself. She should do what her instincts tell her to do, and just get married. After all, it was being someone's wife that was the important thing, not the engagement, or the wedding. Those things were for other people.

Hermione wished he would come back outside, before she talked herself out of this whole thing. She bent at the waist, and took a deep breath. When she stood back upright, he was right before her. "Did you miss me?" he asked. She threw herself into his arms.

"Draco!" was all she managed to say.

He was confused. What could have caused this reaction? He was gone five minutes, tops. He patted her back and said, "Do you want to know where I went?"

She pushed herself away from him and inquired, "Sure, where did you go?"

"I can't tell you. It's a surprise," he smiled.

Hermione hit his arm. "Damn you."

"Learn to live with disappointment," he mused.

"Is that what marriage to you will be? One big disappointment?" she asked him with a smile.

"I highly doubt it," he said crossly.

Harry came up to the pair and said, "It's 45 minutes to one. If you want to get married at one, we need to know what else you need done."

"Nothing, Potter. I have everything planned," Draco said. "Leave me alone with my wife to be, for a few more moments." Draco took Hermione's hand and led her around to the front of the house. He sat with her on the front steps.

"I really do want to show you what I went to get," he said. He put his hand in his pocket, and withdrew a ring. It was a thick platinum wedding ring, carved with an intricate design. "Now, don't freak out, but I bought this a while ago, for no one, understand. I was in a Muggle antique store, I saw it, and I thought it was pretty, and I knew someday I wanted it to be for my wife. That will be you very shortly. I was going to wait and spring it on you during the ceremony, but I thought you might think it was creepy that I already had a ring, so I wanted to explain."

"That is a little creepy," she said, moving her shoulder into his. "I don't have a ring for you." She reached over and took the small ring from his hand.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to wear a ring, for other women will think I'm married if I do," he said, seriously.

She regarded him for a moment and said, "You had better be joking. I want people to know you are married, especially women."

"Fine, then, I'll wear a ring." He reached in his pocket, and pulled out another, which was larger, but apart from the size, matched the first one exactly. "A match set."

"Just like us," she said.

"Exactly, we are a matched set, not an unlikely pair," he said.

Hermione shook her head and said, "No, we're still an unlikely pair, but it's true when it's said that opposites attract. At least, it's true in our case."

"I suppose so," he said. He took the smaller ring from her hand, and put both rings back in his pocket. "Now, Miss Granger, I wasn't going to bother with this, but then I remembered what a champ you were with transfiguration. Do you think you could transfigure my suit from yesterday, and your pretty little dress, into some type of wedding attire. Something appropriate?"

"I think that could be managed," she said, smiling. She thought that was an excellent plan. She took his hand and led him in the house. She went to the bedroom he had stayed in first. He smoothed out his suit, on the bed. It was a nice, dark grey suit, very stylish, with a white silk shirt and a dark tie. Hermione thought for a moment, then with a swish of her wand, the grey suit turned black, and the shirt changed to a more formal white silk, with larger cuffs, and smaller collar. She changed the tie to purple.

"Purple?" Draco said.

"What? I like purple," she said back.

"I don't, change it to green," he said.

"How cliché," she retorted, rolling her eyes.

"I happen to like green, it has nothing to do with which house I was in during school," he lied.

"Green won't do," she complained. She cocked her head the other way, and changed the tie to red.

"No way! Now that's cliché!" he yelled, pointing at the tie. He started to usher her out the room. "You know what? I can change the colour of my own tie, thank you. Let's go work on your dress."

She put her arms up to block him from leaving his room. "No, I want to do this right and its bad luck for you to see me in my dress before the wedding, so, let me take care of this myself. Also, send Ginny up, for I need to fix something for her, since she will be my witness."

Draco looked worried and asked, "Who will be my witness? There's no way I want Potter."

"Maybe Ron will come back from his honeymoon early," she said with a perfectly straight face.

"That's not even remotely funny," he spat. He slapped her arm.

"You hit like a girl," she said, turning to leave the room.

"You are a girl," he said.

"How is that an insult?" she asked.

"Oh, it's not, I thought we were just stating the obvious," he said as a joke.

"You just put yourself down, you know, with that statement," she laughed.

"Did I?" He acted oblivious. "Now, may we focus on me," he asked. She thought they were focusing on him, but she stood there with her arms crossed, with an expression that begged him to continue. He looked at her intently, and then said, "Who will be my stupid witness?"

"I don't know, Draco. Ask Charlie. He's been full of advice during our courtship," she said. She turned to enter her room and said, "Now, leave me alone, I only have a limited amount of time, and I have to get my dress ready. Don't forget to send up Ginny." She shut the door to her room, and he heard her lock it as well.

"I could enter if I wanted," he said loudly to the door. He turned to walk down the stairs and said, "I just don't happen to want to."

"You don't want to do what?" a voice said from the bottom of the stairs. Well, wasn't that convenient? It was Charlie. Just the man he wanted to see. It was almost too perfect, almost like this was a romance story, being orchestrated by a person unknown; making sure everything fell perfectly in place with each word written.

"Weasley, I have a favour to ask," Draco said.

"Do ask," Charlie said, leaning against the wall.

"Well, I know we don't know each other very well," Draco began.

"Let me stop you there," Charlie said. Draco was worried, as Charlie continued, "I simply can't marry you. I, unlike some people, don't marry someone after one day." He laughed at his stupid joke.

Draco frowned and said, "Never mind," and he walked on down the stairs. Maybe Potter would work.

Charlie said, "Malfoy, stop. It was a joke. Ask your question, please."

"Well, would you like to be one of our witnesses? Hermione suggested it," Draco said. He thought if he said, 'our witnesses' and mentioned that she suggested it, he would be more receptive.

"Great," was his response. He ran upstairs and said, "I hope my suit is clean."

Ginny came walking in the kitchen next, and Draco thought, 'wow, this really is too easy, for I needed to talk to her next'. He turned to her and said, "Hermione wants you upstairs. She wants you to be one of our witnesses, and she wants to transfigure a dress for you."

Ginny jumped up and down, excited. "Do you mean we're to dress up?"

"Well, yes, Little Red, I know this is the Burrow and all, but it's also a wedding," Draco said with fake disdain.

Without another word to Draco, Ginny ran outside, and yelled, "Hurry up, everyone, we have to change clothes for the wedding!" Soon, everyone was entering the house, moving all around, throwing clothes here and there. Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger, already armed with the knowledge of the events of the last day by Harry, started getting food ready.

Draco clapped his hands, looked at the hustle and bustle around him, and said, "Let's have a wedding!"

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	36. Chapter 36

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**Chapter 36 - The Wedding, Part I –**

Draco stood in the middle of the hubbub and for a moment, he was in awe. He had just met some of these people yesterday, the rest barely knew him until yesterday, and yet here they were getting ready for his wedding. Odd, but in a nice way. Percy walked up to Draco and said, "Don't you have a wedding in which you need to get ready?" That brought him out of his distraction, and he ran up the stairs to his room.

Meanwhile, in Ginny's old room, Hermione was making the final changes to her dress. Ginny transfigured a dress for herself, and was helping Hermione.

"You need your something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue," Ginny said.

"That's not necessary, is it?" Hermione asked, a bit unsure.

"Yes it's necessary! Now, here is something you can borrow." Ginny walked over to her old dresser, and opened the top drawer. Inside was a small black box. Ginny opened the box, and handed Hermione a jeweled hairpin. It looked very old. Handing it to Hermione, she said, "This was my great-aunt Muriel's. She let me borrow it when I got married, and I never gave it back." Ginny chuckled.

"It's very pretty," Hermione said. She put it beside her dress on the bed. She held up her arm and said, "My bracelet Draco gave me can be my something old."

"Okay, so let's find the blue and the new," Ginny said. She gasped and said, "I have the blue, stay there!" She ran out the room, as Draco was running by. He looked in the door Ginny left opened, and saw Hermione standing before the bed, in deep contemplation. He knocked on the door. She whipped around fast. She ran up to the door, shutting it all but a hair.

"You might have seen my dress!" she exclaimed.

"I might have, but I didn't," he pointed out. "How is everything? No second thoughts, are there?"

"No, no second thoughts. I rather like it like this, rushed and hurried. I thrive on things like this. It makes it seem more real. You aren't having second thoughts are you?" she quizzed.

"Never."

"Do you regret that your parents aren't here?" she asked.

"Never." He wasn't telling the truth.

"Okay, just wanted to check. I wonder what my parents are thinking. Harry said he would explain everything to them. I know they trust my judgment, but this must seem a bit crazy to them. Oh well, no matter." She shrugged. She started to shut the door. He put his hand on the smooth wood and stopped her.

"May I have a wedding day kiss?" he asked.

"When the officiate announces us husband and wife, you shall receive your kiss," she said. She seemed serious. He frowned, and huffed, and with overly exaggerated contempt, he left her in the doorway and went across the hall to his room. She waited until he shut the door. She watched as George ran past her first, and then she crossed the hall and went to Draco's room. She knocked on the door.

"Yes?" he said, opening the door, as if he were expecting her.

"I've decided I want that kiss now," she said.

"Hermione, is this how our whole marriage will be? When I want something, I don't get it, and when you want something, it's going to happen?" he questioned.

"Pretty much," she said.

"Just wanted to know." He grabbed her arm and pulled her in the room. Still pulling on her as he shut the door, he pulled her tightly to his body, wrapping his arms around her. His mouth crashed down on hers, in a forceful, demanding kiss, which would have curled her hair, if nature had not already beaten it to it. Draco opened her soft, willing mouth under his, twirling his tongue with hers. His right hand went up to her face, as he moved his head to the side, to deepen the kiss. He started to pull on her lips with his mouth, licking around the plumpness of her lips, before going back to plunge his tongue in once more.

He let go of her face, and his left hand traveled lower than her waist, to cup her bottom, as his right arm went to her leg, to pull her leg up slightly, to rest on his hip. Goodness, he could not get close enough to her.

He took the two steps necessary to fall backwards on the bed, knowing she had no choice but to fall with him. She stayed on top of him, her breasts pressed hard against his chest. His hands roamed her back. She pulled her head up, looked at him in a hurry, and then sank back into his comfort. She began to kiss his neck, both hands roaming under the bottom of his t-shirt. As she was kissing his neck, and collarbone, he said, "Why can you touch my breasts and I can't touch yours?"

He moved to his side, again, bringing her with him. He pulled down the strap from her sundress, as far as it would go, exposing the top swell of her breasts. He kissed her neck, and then her chest, and then the rise of each breast. His hand rested on the outside of the dress, his thumb moving slightly back and forth over the mound. He kissed her cleavage, and then with his tongue, he licked her with a long stroke up to her jaw. He nibbled on the sensitive skin by her ear. His hand stayed on one breast, still on top of her dress, and his leg trapped her underneath him.

He looked at her and said, "Normally, this is where the knock on the door would interrupt us, so perhaps I should stop."

"Perhaps," she said breathlessly, underneath him. He was also breathing hard, as he was hard elsewhere, and he bent his head, no longer looking at her eyes. He was trying to find the control to let her go, but he was afraid it was a losing battle. Where was that bloody knock on the door when he needed it? He rested his forehead against hers, kissed her mouth once more, and then rolled off her. He sat on the side of the bed.

She remained on her back for a moment, unable to see his expression. She deftly put one hand on his back, under his shirt again. She felt him shudder. She knew it was in a good way, so she didn't mention it. She pulled up her strap, and sat beside him. They sat on the bed, side by side, when a knock came to the door.

"They're late," Draco said. Hermione laughed. She stood up to open the door. Of all people, it was her dad.

"I was told I could find your future husband in here. May I speak to him?" Dr. Granger asked.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. She looked at Draco, who was now standing behind her. "I won't be but a minute, Hermione," her dad said. He practically pushed her out of the room, to the hall, and shut the door.

She stood on the outside, ready to protest, but instead she turned back around, to head to her room. She knew it was her father's right to talk to the man she decided to marry after a whirlwind twenty-four hour courtship. She traveled the short distant to her room, and found her mother examining her dress.

"Beautiful, darling," her mum said.

"Thanks," Hermione said hesitantly. She realized this was an ambush. Her father taking Draco, her mother taking her. Okay, she thought, let the onslaught begin.

"Ginny said you still need your something new and blue. I have the new," She said. Hermione was curious, but also weary, for surely her mum had more to say about this strange wedding than that.

Her mum held up a bookmark. Hermione was a bit shocked. A bookmark? Her mother smiled, seeing the perplexed expression on Hermione's face. "I know, odd, but I just bought it for you yesterday, and when that nice man came to tell us that he was bringing us here, for _your wedding_," her mother emphasized those last two words, "Well, I thought, 'I have her something new', even if I can't help with the wedding any other way."

"Oh, Mum, I'm sorry," Hermione said, throwing her arms around her mother. "I am spoiling your right to throw your only daughter a wedding."

"Goodness, Hermione, you have to know that's not what's important," her mum stated, stroking her daughter's cheek. "What's important is that you're in love, and I can tell you are. You look happier after one day with this man, than all the days you were with Ron. Don't worry about such things on your wedding day. Though, at first, I have to admit, I thought this was a bit too soon after Ron's marriage."

Her mum led her to the bed, and moved aside the dress. She sat down, bringing Hermione down beside her. Hermione fingered the bookmark for a moment, before looking at her mother. "You know, I met your father for the very first time at a New Year's Eve party. We were with other people, and had never even met. He was one of the most handsome men I had ever seen. I told my best friend the night of the party that I was going to marry that man someday. She laughed and asked me why, and I said, 'He's so good looking; I am bound to have beautiful children'. She laughed at my shallowness, but I meant every word." She stopped talking for a moment, to hold Hermione's hand. "I was right, too," she added.

"Then, we went on our first date two days later. Apparently, he noticed me as well. As you know, the rest is history. We were engaged by Valentine's Day, and married by March 17. Everyone thought we rushed our relationship, getting married three months after we met, but it felt right. It still does. I know your twenty-four hour courtship is rushing things, but I would have married your father twenty-four hours after meeting him. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I approve, so just try to relax and be happy." Her mum leaned over, kissed her daughter's cheek, and stood up. "I need to go help Mrs. Weasley. You should get dressed now. Your father will come up for you before the ceremony."

Hermione sat there in awe. Her parents accepted this. That made her so close to tears, that she almost couldn't contain herself.

In Draco's room, Dr. Granger had actually told him the same story. Then he said, "Wizard or not, I will personally hurt you if you hurt my daughter." He shook Draco's hand and walked out the room. He went back downstairs. Draco started getting dressed, but suddenly, he was stopped by the feeling of regret he had. He wanted his parents here as well. Did he have time to go collect them? Would they even come? He had to take that chance. He finished dressing quickly, and then opened the bedroom door. He was going to tell the first person he saw that he would be right back. The first person he saw was baby Victoire walking down the hall. Her mother came running after her.

"Fleur, will you do me a favour?" Draco asked, as the woman picked her daughter up in her arms.

"Anything," she said with a smile.

"Will you let everyone know that I've gone for a moment, to tell my parents about the wedding? I doubt it will make a difference, and they probably won't come, but I need to tell them," Draco said.

"Of course," she replied.

Draco disapparated away. Hermione was standing in the doorway of her room, having heard the entire exchange. It made her happy he was telling his parents, so she was cautiously optimistic, but she was also slightly afraid. She hoped he wouldn't be too upset, if the outcome was less than favourable. She turned back around, and with Ginny returning to the room with her something blue, she started to prepare for her wedding.

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	37. Chapter 37

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**Chapter 37 - The Wedding Continued -**

Looking in the mirror that hung on the bedroom door, Hermione surveyed her reflection. She looked the way she always dreamed she would look on her wedding day. Ginny helped her with her hair, putting it up softly. She placed wildflowers and purple heather throughout her hair. Ginny even made her a beautiful bouquet of blue flowers. That was her something blue. Her dress was simple, thin straps, flowing silk, fitting her like the proverbial glove. Hermione shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Now, all she needed was her groom. Harry opened the door. "Blimey, Hermione." Harry felt like crying. She was more beautiful than he had ever seen her. "You are a vision."

Hermione laughed and looked at the floor. He put one hand under her chin and saw she was blushing. He smiled. "Your red face doesn't go with your outfit, so cut that out," he said.

"Is Draco back?" Hermione asked.

"I didn't know he was gone," Harry said concerned. All of the sudden, he had thoughts that perhaps this whole thing was a Malfoy ploy of some kind, or perhaps if the way he felt for her in the last twenty-four hours wasn't completely fabricated, than maybe he developed cold feet at the last moment. Harry would kill him, either way.

"Fleur said he went to tell his parents," Hermione said.

"Why? They won't lower themselves to come to the Burrow for a wedding between their son and a Muggle-born," Harry said crassly.

"At least he is telling them," Hermione said plaintively.

Harry smiled, for her sake, and said, "Well, it's five minutes to one. If he plans on getting married at one, he has five minutes to arrive." He took a deep breath, so he would not be tempted to say anymore. He opened the door, and walked out to the hall. Ginny was outside. "Where's Malfoy? Has he returned?" Harry asked his wife.

"No, oh Harry, you don't think he's not coming back, do you?" Ginny asked.

"I will kill him, if he doesn't. I swear by all that is holy, I will kill him, and they can lock me up for my entire life, but I will kill him. What if this whole thing was some elaborate ploy to humiliate all of us? Or even worse, what if he decides just to stand her up, because he's changed his mind? I mean this; I won't be responsible if he dies today." Harry stormed downstairs, his wife closely on his heels.

Hermione stood by her door, having heard everything they said to each other. It had not crossed her mind that he might change his mind. This was all his idea anyway. There was no way this day wasn't real. At least she knew that much. Even if he had cold feet, she knew deep in her heart that their feelings for each other were real. It was solid. It was genuine. If not, Hermione Granger was the biggest fool on the face of this green earth! Hermione paced back and forth in the room. This was a mistake! Now, she was going to look like a fool in front of everyone. Wouldn't Ron and Pansy just love this? She couldn't even open the door to ask anyone if he had returned, for she was too embarrassed.

Everyone sat around the long kitchen table. Hermione's dad and Mr. Weasley were on the front porch. Mrs. Weasley and her mum went out to join them. Charlie loosened his tie, and said, "Well, it's one o'clock. Twenty-four hours is over. He's not here, and I don't think he's coming back."

Harry's face was red, and he was clenching both his fists, so tightly, that his knuckles were white.

Fleur said, "He's only been gone a little over fifteen minutes. It is not an easy thing to tell your parents that you're marrying someone you barely know. Let's not give up on him so soon."

"He said one o'clock though," George reminded her. "When he ran out the door, to go to the Manor, he yelled back, 'I'll be back by one', and he's not here."

Percy said, "Maybe they won't let him return. Stranger things have happened. I wouldn't put anything past Lucius."

"I agree with Percy and with Fleur. It's either he can't return, or it is just taking longer than he thought, but give him time. I really think he loves her. I've seen the way he looks at her, and it's the way I look at my wife," Bill said. His wife came and sat on his lap.

Ginny was holding the baby, and she said, "I'll take Victoire outside. If I see him, I'll let you all know."

Hermione had been standing on the stairs, again listening to the entire exchange. She had decided to come downstairs, put on a brave face, and face them all, as if nothing out of the ordinary was occurring. She could not possibly do that now, knowing what they were all thinking, and hearing what they were all saying. They were all feeling sorry for her again, and she was not going to be a part of it.

She ran back upstairs, went to Ginny's room, and shut the door.

"Should someone go up to Hermione?" Percy asked.

"No, let her be. She's probably worried enough," Charlie said.

What they did not know was that Hermione Granger was no longer even at the Burrow.

She was sitting in the same pew, in the same exact spot, that she sat in a little over twenty-four hours ago, right after Ron and Pansy's wedding. She was crying, just as she had twenty-four hours ago. She was a fool. This hurt worse than anything Ron could have done to her. Hermione didn't want to hurt anymore. She was so tired of the pain, and the hurt. Why couldn't life be easier? Was it so wrong that she wanted happiness? Was it so wrong that she wanted marriage, children, and a career? Why couldn't she have it all, if she wanted it?

No one was going to hurt Hermione Granger ever again. She would not allow it.

She heard the door to the little chapel open, and without turning around, she knew in her heart it was he, she didn't even know what she was going to say to him, and she didn't know what he was going to say to her.

He sat directly behind her. He reached up to her hair, removing one of the small flowers, and placed it in his lapel's buttonhole, so he would have a boutonniere. He heard her sobbing, and it broke his heart.

He started to hum the wedding march. She didn't see the humour in his folly. Next, he said, more to himself, than to her, "This is a pretty little chapel after all. I'm shocked Ron and Pansy picked it out; it doesn't seem their taste. Maybe this would be a nice place for me to get married someday."

She said, more to herself, than to him, "This was always the place I had wanted to get married. Ron would not even have known about it, if I had not brought him here one day. I might get married here someday, too."

"Well, it's a pretty little place," he repeated. He leaned forward in the pew, placing his hands on the back of her seat.

"Yes, it is," she agreed.

"Maybe we will get married here," he said, adding a moment later, "someday."

She was quiet for a while. Did that mean he did not want to get married today? Did that mean he still wanted to marry her, only someday, not today? She was more confused than ever. She could not help herself, so she began to cry again.

It took all his resolve not to scoop her in his arms, and kiss her until she stopped crying. He decided to cut to the chase. "Did you seriously think I would stand you up? Did you really doubt my love for you?" he asked.

"It's after one," she stated, not looking back at him.

"So, is there a law saying this whole thing had to conclude in exactly twenty-four hours? Because if you want to get technical, the wedding started before one pm, and I saw you at the chapel, even if you were not aware I was here, so it has already been over twenty-four hours. I admit, the thought of a twenty-four hour courtship seems more romantic, so when we relay this story to our children someday, we can just shave an hour off, here or there," he explained. His hand went to rest on her shoulder.

Her head still hung low. She sighed. He leaned far up in the seat, and reached his hand to her face, forcing her to look around at him. He brushed a tear away, and then kissed her cheek.

"Don't ever cry for me, Granger. It breaks my heart to see your heart breaking. When I arrived back at the Burrow, I immediately went to find you, and when I couldn't, I went out of my mind with worry. The first thing I thought was that you had cold feet, and changed your mind. Then, I realized, that was probably what you thought about me. After I escaped the wrath of Potter, I came here to find you. Everyone is looking for you. I somehow knew you would be here," he said. He stood up, put his leg unceremoniously over the back of her pew, and sat beside her. He took one of her hands in both of his, stroking it gently.

"How did it go with your parents?" she asked, finally looking at him. However, he was now looking away.

"Not good. They were angry. I can't help how they feel. I hoped they would be as understanding as your parents were, but that was hoping for too much, and I only just realized that. You're my family, now," he said. He kissed her hand. He regretted his parents' decision not to come, but he would not dwell on it.

"I will always be your family," she told him. He leaned over and kissed her sweet lips.

"That's more than I could ever hope," he said sincerely. "By the way, do you see that I have a purple tie on? Rule number ten, Granger is always right."

Hermione laughed and said, "Let us change that rule, right here, right now, to say, no matter what, we will love and protect each other forever."

"I like the Granger is always right one, but if you would rather have the love one, we can change it. After all, you're always right," he jested. He brought his hand up to her face; cupping is slightly, before kissing her again. "I can't be caught marrying a woman with red eyes and a running nose. You better get yourself together if you plan to marry me."

"Maybe I've changed my mind," she said, trying to stand up. He pulled her back down. He saw she was smiling brightly.

"Fine, keep your bloody, red eyes and nose. They can be your 'something red'." He stood up and said, "Come, we have a wedding to go to right now, and word is, we are late." He took her by her shoulders and stood her up, saw her flowers on the pew beside her, handed them to her, and then offered her his hand.

She took the flowers, but not his hand. "Will you go and bring everyone back here? We can still have our reception there, but I think I would like to be married in this chapel, after all. We kind of met here, well, re-met here, so I think it's fitting," she said.

"I think that's fitting, too. It all started here, so it should conclude here. If I leave, you won't run away will you?" he asked. He seriously thought that might be a possibility.

"Ye of little faith," she told him, "I would no sooner leave you, than you would leave me, apparently." She sat back down.

He bent down, looked her square in the eyes, and said, "That's reassuring, for I'm never leaving you. I'm in this until death do us part. Just think, in a few moments, you will be my wife. I can barely believe it's true." He kissed her hand and ran out the chapel. She stood up, walked up to the pulpit, and waited. She was getting married today.

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	38. Chapter 38

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**Chapter 38: The Chapel:**

Hermione could not help but feel giddy. She began to hum the wedding march, as Draco had done earlier. Then she began to sing, another Beatles song. She sang, "_Who knows how long I've loved you, who knows I love you still, will I wait a lonely lifetime, if you ask me to I will_."

"Hermione?"

The sound of someone opening the doors, and saying her name, stopped her singing. She turned around, and gasped. Behind her was Ron. She immediately began to panic. Was this real, or a dream? Why was he here?

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a panic. "How did you even know I was here?"

"Percy owled me, and told me you were getting married today," he said, walking toward her slowly. "I thought you might come here."

"Why would he do that?" she asked, more to herself than to him.

"I'm one of your best friends, don't you want me here?" he asked softly.

"Where's your wife? You are supposed to be on your blooming honeymoon!" Hermione said, now feeing disgusted that he was there.

"She's taking a nap. She won't even know I'm gone, but just in case, I wrote her a note telling her I was taking a walk." Ron approached her, and tried to take her hand, but she cringed away from him, taking several steps back.

"Leave, Ron! You are not welcomed at my wedding," she said.

"I invited you to mine," he said. He added, "Hermione, you can't marry Malfoy, of all people. You just can't. You are confused, that's all. I know you haven't been dating him, as you claimed. All of this has happened just since my wedding. It's too fast, Hermione! You need to think things through, and be rational. You aren't behaving like yourself. He's a bad influence on you already."

Hermione frowned and pointed toward the door, "Leave, or I will curse you, Ronald Weasley! I don't care for your opinion on this or any other matter!"

He slowly walked toward her, and she continued to step away. He had her cornered. He said, "Hermione, I know I wasn't right for you, and I'm not saying this because I have regrets."

"No, but you want me to claim to have regrets, is that right? You want to think this is a manifestation of my grief over losing you. Well, Ron, I was grieving, but I was grieving a lost relationship, not you. There is a difference. Please, everyone will be here soon, please leave!"

"Hermione, I won't leave until I've talked some sense into you. I'm shocked Harry's letting you go forth with this ludicrous plan."

"Letting me? I am an adult, with my own mind and my own heart, and I don't seek anyone's permission to do anything, Ronald Weasley! If I want to marry a donkey, I will. Harry supports me, because he loves me. You, however, only care for yourself, or you would support me, too." Hermione reached into the pocket of her gown to make sure she had her wand.

"IT'S MALFOY!" Ron yelled, his hands in the air, walking over to the other side of the pulpit.

"So that's it!" Hermione said, pointing at him. "It's not that I'm getting married, or have moved on, or have finally found happiness, that's eating at you, it's the fact that it's Malfoy!"

"Of course that's the reason! Hell, Hermione, I thought I made that plain," Ron said. He sat down on the pew in the front, and looked up at her. "He can't know how to treat you well! He can't know how to love you! He doesn't love anyone or anything. Mark my words, Hermione; he will leave you some day. He will hurt you."

"Shut up!" Hermione yelled. She felt like slapping his face.

Draco and all the guests had just arrived. Draco started in the chapel first, and he saw Ron sitting in the front pew. He heard what he said to Hermione, and he heard her tell him to shut up. He began to swing open the doors, to run in so he could kick the other man's arse, when Hermione saw him. She took her wand, knocked Draco back out the doors of the chapel with a flick of her wrist and a simple spell, and shut and locked the doors with magic. This was her fight.

"What's going on in there?" Harry asked, helping Draco to stand.

"Ron is in there with her," Ginny answered, looking in one of the front windows. Soon, all the guests were trying to look in the two little front windows. The windows along the sides of the building were stained glass, so they wouldn't be of any help. Draco was trying, in vain, to open up the doors.

"How did he know?" Bill asked.

"My fault, I'm afraid," Percy volunteered. "I felt he had a right to know, because I thought he would want to be here to support her. I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Yeah, well, your right things always turn out wrong, you pompous git," George said, hitting his brother's arm with his fist. Percy clutched his shoulder in pain.

Back inside the chapel, Hermione was still yelling at Ron.

"What I feel for Draco is real, and I don't have to justify anything to anyone, especially not to you! You claimed you loved me, and then you cheated on me! You married someone else. The moment you said 'I do' to someone else, you lost the right to tell me what to do. Even if this ends up being a mistake, it will be my mistake to make, and you don't have to worry, for I won't come to you to pick up the pieces!" She stormed down the aisle, and Ron followed.

He tried to hold her arm, but she turned around fast and pointed her wand at him. She stupefied him. He fell over backwards, not moving. She gasped and ran to the doors. She opened the doors and everyone, Draco included, started asking her what happened. She said, "Quiet everyone! I need Harry for a moment." Harry slipped in the doors. Hermione looked at Draco, and said, "I love you." She shut and locked the doors once more. Draco banged on the doors in frustration.

Harry walked up to the unconscious Ron, lying on the floor. "What did you do?" Harry asked, kneeling beside his friend.

"Well, you told me once if I was going to stupefy someone, to do it when you weren't looking, and you weren't around, so I did. He deserved it, Harry," she offered, as she too kneeled beside him. "Is he going to be okay?"

Harry actually laughed and said, "I don't know, you're pretty powerful when you're angry. Let me disapparate with him back to the Burrow."

"Harry, you will come back, won't you? I can't get married without you here," Hermione said.

"I'll be back," Harry promised.

"Oh, and Harry, maybe you should restrain him or something, just in case he tries to escape," Hermione reasoned.

Harry looked at her incredulously, and said, "He's not a prisoner." However, in his mind, he thought that was an excellent idea. He said, "Don't start the wedding without me." He took Ron's arm, and they left.

Hermione paced up and down the aisle. She would not let this ruin her one and only wedding! Draco began to bang on the doors again. She walked up to the doors, opened them, and saw a sea of concerned faces. "Slight hitch, sorry, but the wedding is still on, we just need to wait for Harry." She shut the doors again.

"Hermione! Let me in," Draco yelled.

She yelled back, "It's bad luck to see me before the wedding!"

"I've seen you all day!"

"It's bad luck to see me in my gown!" she yelled again.

"But, I've just left you. You had your gown on when I saw you a few moments ago!" He continued to bang on the doors. She finally opened them.

"Fine, but only Draco for a minute, okay everyone. Sorry, just make yourselves comfortable," she said, pulling on his arm, and dragging him inside the chapel.

"What happened?" Draco asked, putting both his hands on her face.

"I hexed him. Ron, I hexed him," she said, almost with a laugh. Then, shocking them both, she really started laughing, and she could not stop. She said, "He was being a bastard, I yelled at him, I pointed my wand," she continued laughing, "then 'poof' he was knocked over on his arse, and he was out cold!" She bent over at the waist, holding her side, laughing harder than Draco had ever seen her laugh. Her laughter was contagious, and he began to laugh, too.

"I wish you had let me see him," Draco said, between laughs.

"You would have enjoyed it, damn, that could have been my wedding present to you," she said. She walked up to him, and took his hand. "Now, I will have to buy you something, I suppose."

"I nice piece of real estate always makes me happy," Draco said, smiling. "I was on my way in here to hit him when I heard him say that I would leave you, and hurt you. You know he's a fool, don't you. I would never hurt you, and I certainly will never leave you."

"I know, and the reason I barred the doors, and wouldn't let you enter, was because it was between him and me. It was something I had to take care of myself," she said.

"No, you didn't bar the doors from me, you had me physically removed from the premises with magic, like I was an offensive rodent you were removing from the room, but I understand. Percy told him, apparently," Draco said.

"I know. Percy's a git," Hermione said, with a small chuckle.

"That's what his mother said, too," Draco lied.

"Mrs. Weasley called Percy a git?" she asked.

"It was her or George, I'm not sure which, but one of them said it, and then punched him in the arm," Draco said. He sat down, pulling her on his lap. "You are my knight in shining armor, Granger, saving the day like that," Draco said, kissing her neck. She moaned slightly. It felt glorious.

"Hey, where are we going on our honeymoon?" she asked.

"I have to work tomorrow," he suddenly realized.

"So do I," she stated back.

"Back to the real world, so soon, I suppose," he said. He drew his fingers up and down her arm, as she held him tightly. "I could call in sick."

"I'm a healer, so I could heal you. I think we should do just that," she kissed his ear.

"Wet ear kisses, how romantic," he said. She stuck her tongue in his ear, and he shivered. "Seriously!" he retorted, bringing his hand up to his ear. He ticked her ribs. "So, when is this marriage starting?"

Before she could answer, the chapel doors opened once again. Draco and Hermione both turned to look at the doors. Harry was walking in, by himself. He shut the doors behind him. The bride and groom stood up, and watched as he walked up the aisle.

Harry said, "I brought a couple of other guests, whom I met at the Burrow. I hope that's okay with you two."

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	39. Chapter 39

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**Chapter 39: Before the Vows:**

Harry opened the double doors to the small chapel, and said, "I brought a couple of other guests, whom I met at the Burrow. I hope that's okay with you two."

Hermione said, "As long as one of them isn't Pansy." She looked over at Draco.

He added, "Or Oliver Wood."

Hermione and Draco both laughed, since he finished her sentence for her. Harry said, "No, actually, these two people said they were invited." He moved aside, and Draco's mother and father walked in. Draco's eyes grew wide in shock. Hermione stopped breathing for a moment. Draco leaned over to Hermione and said, "Protect me, please."

Hermione wanted to know who would protect her.

Lucius looked around the little chapel, his disgust evident. Narcissa appeared less apprehensive. She rushed up to Draco, smiling.

Harry started back down the aisle and said, "I'll give you all a moment. You just let me know when the rest of us can come in." He walked backwards out the door, giving Hermione a sympathetic look, and he shut the doors behind him.

Hermione swallowed hard, and took Draco's hand. Mrs. Malfoy smiled at Hermione as well and said, "My, you are more beautiful than I remember." Hermione hoped so, since the last time Mrs. Malfoy had seen her, was when Hermione was tortured in the other woman's home, by her sister, no less. Hermione decided to put all negative thoughts behind her.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said.

"Well, Draco," his father started, "If you seriously intend to get married today, in this, what is it called? Oh yes, a chapel, I suggest we get started. It's unseemly to be late."

Hermione almost laughed, but Draco squeezed her hand. Hermione could not believe that Mr. Malfoy was worried about the wedding starting late. Seriously? He only cared about the wedding starting late, not the fact that his only son was marrying a Muggle-born, after a two-day courtship. Mr. Malfoy looked at Hermione and said, "Miss Granger, I hope you are ready for all the responsibilities that will come with having the name of Malfoy."

"Well…" Hermione began. She had not given that one thought. She hadn't had time. She wondered if that responsibility included hating Muggles and mudbloods. If it weren't her wedding day, she would ask him that very thing. Instead, she merely ended her statement with, "I'm sure I'm up for the challenge."

"I am sure you are," Lucius stated. "Where do we sit, Draco?" Draco looked toward Hermione. He didn't know where they were to sit.

"You and your wife will sit on this side, in the front row, and my parents will sit on this side, in the front row." Hermione pointed to the appropriate pew. Mr. Malfoy walked over, took out a handkerchief, wiped off the pew, and then took his wife's hand. They both sat down.

Draco turned toward Hermione and said, "Pinch me."

"What?" she asked.

"Pinch me, so I will know this is real," he said again. She pinched his arm, very hard. "Ouch! Not that hard!" He leaned toward her and whispered, "I never in a million years thought they would come. I went to the Manor, told them I was marrying you this afternoon at one, and if they wanted to come, to come to the Burrow. They both started yelling at me, my mother telling me to think of our name and bloodline, my father telling me that I would be disinherited, and I told them I wasn't arguing with them, they could come and share in the joy of my wedding, or they could lose their only son forever. I left, and I thought I would never see them again."

Hermione was shocked. She took his hand, and led him to the corner, out of his parents' earshot. "Draco, you were going to give up your family, for me? I would never ask you to do that. You should have told me that."

"The thing is, Hermione, I was going to tell you that. I was going to tell you that perhaps we should stick with the original plan, and marry one year from today, that way my parents would have time to adjust. But, when you weren't at the Burrow, I suddenly realized that I wanted nothing more than to find you, and marry you, right here, today," he admitted.

"I don't know what to say, but thank you," she said.

"You're so funny," he said with a chuckle. "You don't have to thank me for loving you. Just love me back."

Mrs. Malfoy was carefully watching the young lovers in the corner. She leaned over to her husband and said, "Look at them. He loves her. This is right, Lucius, you have to know that this is right."

"I am here, aren't I?" he answered. He looked over at the unlikely pair. He saw his son lean forward to kiss his bride's cheek. He knew his son was not a fool. He would never make a decision like this, if he were not sure it was right. They did appear fond of each other. He reached down for his wife's hand. He said loudly, "Draco, it is 1:45 pm. Really, it is rude and unseemly to keep your guests waiting for 45 minutes. You need to start the ceremony now."

Draco looked over at his father and said, "Yes, Sir."

Hermione said, "You stay up here, and get ready for me. I need to go to the back of the church, to make my grand entrance anyway. I just wish we had some music for when I walk down the aisle."

"I could hum the wedding march again," Draco volunteered.

"No offense, but no," Hermione offered.

"How about this, we are magical, aren't we? I think I could produce some music, if I tried hard enough, maybe one of those little Beatles songs. Tell me which one you want to hear while you march down the aisle, and I will make sure it plays throughout the chapel."

"You don't even know any Beatle songs," Hermione reminded.

"For goodness sakes, Granger, did you believe that? I may be a pureblood, but they are the ruddy Beatles, for goodness sakes." He turned to his parents and said, "Hermione here thinks we don't know who the Beatles are."

His mother laughed and said, "I love the Beatles. I used to listen to their music all the time, when Draco was young."

Hermione looked more shocked than she looked when the Malfoys entered the chapel. She turned again to Draco and said, "You are such a liar."

"And it's a good thing you have discovered that now, instead of finding it out after we are married," he said.

"What other lies have you told me this weekend?" she asked.

"You have a lifetime to discover my secrets and lies, Hermione, now, which song do you want?" Draco goaded.

"If you know all their songs, you pick one," she said curtly. She walked down the aisle, shaking her head in disbelief, saying to her self, "secrets and lies, those should be his wedding vows." She opened the chapel doors, and told everyone they could enter. Everyone kissed her, or congratulated her on their way in.

"Only 47 minutes late, Hermione," George said, kissing her cheek. "I suppose you are worth the wait."

"I'm as happy as I would be if one of my own children were marrying," Molly said, holding her hand.

Arthur smiled at her and said, "She might as well be one of ours, for we already think of her that way."

Charlie gave her a kiss, and said, "If only I knew you could be so easily courted, I would have tried myself." He laughed and winked at her.

Bill and Fleur both smiled and told her to be happy.

Percy looked embarrassed, and said, "Forgive me about Ron, but I didn't know he would act like he did. I thought he would be an adult, and support you, like you supported him." He gave her a half smile, and she took his hand and smiled back. He went inside.

Ginny grinned, giggled, and ran up the aisle.

Harry smiled at her. He took her hand, leaned in, and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. "I love you. Be happy. You deserve more than happiness, but that's all I can offer, I'm afraid." He took the arm of Mrs. Granger, and escorted her in the chapel.

The Officiate and Draco's friend from the Ministry, the one who arranged for the license, walked in last.

She stood outside, alone with her father.

"Are you happy, little girl?" her father asked.

"Yes, Dad, I'm so happy," she said sincerely.

"You look beautiful, you know. That one Weasley, Percy, I think, said he would take some pictures of you when we got back to the Burrow, so we will have some memories to document this day. I want to tell my grandchildren how their parents met and married."

"That would be nice, Dad," Hermione said. She took her father's hand. "Ready?"

"If you are," he said.

Her father opened the doors back up, and everyone stood, in honour of the bride. The Beatles song, "Something" began softly to waft through the little wooden chapel. Hermione loved that song.

She was so nervous, that she was visibly shaking. Her father started walking slowly, and at first, Hermione forgot how to walk. He whispered, "Come on, one foot in front of the other, it's not that hard, you've been doing it since you were ten months old. Always the early bird, you were." She could not even look at him. She could only see Draco. He was smiling so widely, she knew immediately that everything was going to be okay.

She took a deep breath, to fight off the tears that were in her eyes, and to relieve the heaviness in her chest. They walked down the aisle. She could no longer hold back her tears. They were tears of joy. She started crying freely, embarrassed that she could not contain herself, but also, too overwhelmed to try to stop. Her mother was crying also. She heard Mrs. Weasley begin to cry. If Ginny started crying as well, Hermione would not be able to hold herself together. She looked at Ginny, and no, she was not crying. However, Hermione looked over at her dad, and as a tear slipped down his cheek, she started crying harder. She never thought she would be the type to cry at her own wedding.

She looked once more at Draco. He looked concerned that she was crying, so she tried to smile, so he would know that she was just happy. It seemed to take an eternity for her to reach him. That's all she wanted. She just wanted to reach him, and then everything would be fine. Just a few more steps. She was crying harder and harder, and she let go of her dad's arm a few moments before she was meant to and reached out for Draco's hand.

He closed the gap between them, and took her hand. He put his hand to her cheek, to wipe her tears. "Okay, Granger?"

She could only nod, as each breath she took was racked with a sob. She held his hand so tight; he thought she might squeeze if off his wrist. Mr. Granger sat down beside his wife. Draco turned to the Officiate, and said, "A moment?" He turned to Hermione and said, "Are you sure this is what you want? We can wait, if you would rather."

"Oh, Draco, you dense, darling man, these are tears of joy," she said, as her tears continued. "I have never felt this happy in my whole entire life. I love you so much. I can't believe this is even real."

He put his forehead on hers and said softly, "Do you want me to pinch you?"

"Perhaps you should," she smiled.

He said, "Maybe I will kiss you instead," and he placed his lips softly on hers. "I love you." He turned to the man before them and said, "We can begin."

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	40. Chapter 40

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**Chapter 40: The Vows:**

The Officiate began speaking, but Hermione and Draco neither one heard a word he said. He asked them if they had anything to say. Draco was not prepared for this. He barely had time to prepare a wedding, much less vows. He looked at Hermione, and said, "I really don't have anything to say, do you?"

She said, "Yes, I have something I would like to say."

"Please begin," the man said.

"Draco, before yesterday, my life was at a standstill. No longer moving, it was stale, and stagnant. I felt a heaviness everyday of my life. Just getting up and moving each day was a chore. I felt complacent, and I was resigned that my life was going to be that way forever. Then, I made a decision. I decided to come to Ron's wedding. In the beginning, I never intended to come to Ron's wedding. I thought it would be too painful. I was right, for it was incredibly painful." Hermione had to stop for a moment, to wipe her eyes. Draco's father passed her his handkerchief.

She continued, "But I plucked up my courage, and I came to his wedding, because I was so tired of living my life with regrets. I wanted to stop standing still. I wanted my life to have momentum again. I came, I saw, and I conquered. It was difficult, and I barely survived. I now know it was the best decision of my life. After the ceremony, everyone left, and I remained here, because this was my chapel, and that was my wedding, and my heart shattered into a million pieces, and I thought I would never be whole again."

"So I sat back there, in this very chapel, in that last pew, just yesterday. And as my heart was breaking in two, you walked in and you gave me my life back, without even knowing what you were doing." She had to stop again, for she was crying harder. Almost everyone was crying. Draco was close to tears himself, but he was going to stay strong, for her.

"You came in here, and without even knowing it, you picked up the shards of my shattered heart, and in less than a day, you made me whole again. I will owe you all the gratitude in the world for that. You made me love again. You made my life continue to move, when I thought it would forever stand still. As crazy as this has all been, it has been the single most important event of my life. Knowing you, loving you, being with you for the last twenty-four hours has been the single most important thing I have ever done. I hope I can make you as happy as you've made me. If I can give you a tenth of the love that you've given me, then that's more than I can ever wish."

"My heart feels as heavy today, as it felt the day before, but today it's heavy because it's filled with love for you. Please, believe me when I say I will never hurt you, I will never doubt you, and I will live all my days just loving you, if you will let me." She took two deep, ragged, breaths, and shut her eyes for a moment. She opened her eyes again, and mouthed, 'I love you'.

Draco said, "Well, hell, I can't top that."

Everyone laughed. Even Hermione. It was good to laugh, for it alleviated some of the tears that were flowing from the guests, and the bride.

"Okay, here's the thing, Hermione," Draco began, "I knew you were having a hard time at the wedding. I sat behind you, and I heard you quietly crying, and I saw how you could barely even watch as Ron and Pansy exchanged their vows, and as much as you say your heart was breaking, well, so was mine. However, mine was breaking for you. I think that was the moment I knew I loved you."

"And, let's be truthful, Granger, and call a spade a spade. We hated each other in school." Everyone laughed again. "As you know, there is a thin line between love and hate, and I crossed that line yesterday, right here in this chapel. Therefore, I waited for you, and I pounced on you the second I could. I was determined that you would not regret not marrying Weasley. I was determined to make you see there was another bloke out there for you, maybe someone like me. I can't say I planned to marry you twenty-four hours later, well, if we're being truthful again, more like twenty-five or twenty-six hours later, but that doesn't matter. When I told you yesterday that I loved you, I knew in my heart I did. When I asked you to marry me, I knew in my soul it would be forever. When he made love," she blushed, and he touched her cheek, "and we planned our family," he turned to the guests, "two sons, two daughters," he turned back to her, "I knew that was what was going to happen."

"I will never regret anything I have said or have done in the last two days. These last two days were preordained. They were written in the book of our lives, long before we were even born, and who are we to mess with fate. You are my future, my life, my love. I want nothing more than to spend every moment, of everyday, showing you how much you mean to me. Love me, Hermione. Marry me, Hermione. Be my wife, and the mother of my children, and make me the happiest man on the face of this planet, for after all, my dear, doesn't everyone deserve happiness, even you and I?"

"Take my hand in marriage, and in return I will give you my heart," he concluded.

Hermione was no longer crying. It was not that his words were not moving, for they were. She was too happy for tears. "I will take your hand, and Draco, I don't have to offer you my heart, because you already have it."

The Officiate said a few more words, which once again, the bride and groom were oblivious. He finally pronounced them husband and wife. He said, "Draco, you may kiss your wife."

"Do you hear that, Hermione, you're my wife," he said lightly. "What do you say about that?"

She smiled, and said, "It's about damn time." Everyone cheered and laughed, as Draco took her in his arms, bowed her low, and kissed her. He stood her back up, his hands on her cheeks.

"That kiss was for them, now one for me," he said. He brought her face closer, and with his thumbs, he rubbed away the remnants of tears from her cheeks. He kissed her right cheek, then her left, and then he rested his mouth on hers. He moved his lips slowly, and with all the love he felt for her, he kissed her, and for the first time in his life, he knew what unconditional love was, for he felt it for her. He moved his hands down her arms, grasped her hands, and lifted his lips from hers.

"I love you," she said.

"You better," he said back, "or this would have all been a massive waste of time."

They turned toward their guests, and everyone was still standing and they had begun to applaud. Hermione smiled widely, turned to Draco, and said, "On to the next twenty-four hours."

"We have a reception first, then we can continue with the next twenty-four hours, deal?" he said. They were walking slowly down the aisle, and when they reached the end, Draco turned around and said, "Everyone join us at the Burrow, and let's end this day right!" He turned to Hermione and said, "Ready, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Oh, about that, I intend to keep my name, Mr. Malfoy," she laughed.

"I could not care less, but you're the one telling my parents that little piece of joyful news," he laughed back. He took her hand, and they both disapparated back to the place where their story really began, back to the Burrow.

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	41. Chapter 41

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**Chapter 41: The End, (Or in the words of Draco, The Beginning):**

Hermione felt happier than she had felt in a very long time. Perhaps happier than she had been her entire life. This was such a surreal day, and yet, it was the most real thing she had ever experienced. Was it just yesterday that she thought her world would never be the same? Was it only twenty-four hours ago (give or take a few hours) that she thought her broken heart would never mend? As she sat next to her HUSBAND, watching her friends and family enjoy her reception, eating, drinking and being merry, she thought she was more content than she had a right to be.

Draco leaned over to her and said softly, "It all seems surreal, doesn't it?"

"You little mind reader, you," she said, touching his cheek. She looked at her new husband, and took his hand under the table. She looked back out among their guests, marveling at how lucky she felt. Draco looked directly at her smiling face. He knew he was the lucky one.

"Did you like my choice of songs, at the chapel?" he asked.

She turned to look back at him, "It was beautiful. I wish you had picked a song that had expressed how I felt as well, but still, it was as if each word was coming from you."

"It was," he answered. He brought her hand up to his mouth, and kissed her knuckles. "There's something in the way you move, that attracts me like no other lover," he quoted the song.

"Sing for me," she laughed.

"If you heard my singing voice, you would run away, demanding an annulment, believe me," he told her.

"Okay, I trust you, never sing for me," she said again.

As Hermione continued to watch their guest, he continued to watch her. It could have been so easy to leave her at the chapel yesterday. That was almost what he did. He had not even expected an invitation to the wedding. He worked in the same department as Weasley and Potter, so he had heard the talk of an upcoming wedding for a long time. He also had heard Potter talking to others about how hurt Hermione was, and how he was concerned for her.

At first, when he received the invitation, (from Pansy, he was sure, not Ron), he thought it might be too awkward, so he was going to decline. Then, one day, he heard Potter talking to his wife in the hallway of the Ministry. He told Ginny that Hermione had decided to come to the wedding after all, and he said he almost wished she would not, for he knew it would be hard on her.

Draco decided to come, at that very moment. He told himself at first he wanted to come to see the show. He half hoped that Hermione would come, curse the whole lot of them, and then disappear. He would have paid a million galleons to see that. However, when he showed up to the chapel, and he saw Granger sitting near the back, on the bride's side, no less, and he saw how sad, alone, and small she looked, he decided to sit behind her, in case she totally fell apart, and needed a helping hand.

He never felt such a longing to help someone in his life. The feelings he had for her were foreign to him. He could not possibly be attracted to her, could he? Still, he sat behind her, and it took all his resolve not to reach out to her, when he saw her begin to cry. After the ceremony, when all the guests stood, she remained in her seat. He followed the throng outside. Finally, he saw her come out as well. He almost wet himself in pleasure when he saw her throw her whole bag of rice right at Weasley's head. She hid behind another guest, but Draco saw the whole thing. Weasley yelped in pain, and Draco laughed in delight.

He saw her slip back in the chapel, after everyone else had headed off to the reception. He decided to wait for her to come back outside. He had no idea what he was going to say to her. He decided he would just improvise. He paced back and forth, and finally sat down to wait for her. After almost twenty minutes, he decided she must have disapparated from inside the chapel.

He opened the door a crack to see if she had gone, and there she was, still inside, sitting in the very last pew, crying opening. Mourning the stupid bastard who broke her heart. If Weasley was there, Draco was sure he would throttle the man himself. She turned slightly in her seat, sensing that someone had entered. Draco looked right in her sad, red, tear-brimmed, eyes, and quickly shut the door again. He felt like he was witnessing the baring of her soul, and he was ashamed, for some reason. No, not just some reason, he was ashamed for every bad thing he had ever said or done to her.

At first, he was not going to wait for her. He was going to leave, right there and then, but something in his heart made him wait. He sat down on the little wooden steps, and decided if he had to, he would wait a lifetime for her.

She walked out the doors, and saw him sitting on the steps, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He looked up at her as she walked out the door. She sat down beside him. "Hello, Malfoy, I didn't see you at the wedding."

"Really? I saw you," he said. "I was in the pew right behind you. You didn't look like you enjoyed the ceremony very much," he said, lightly.

"I don't suppose I did," she agreed.

"Do you want to be alone to wallow in self-pity a bit longer, or are you heading to the reception?" he asked.

"I'm not wallowing in self-pity," she pointed out.

"Yes you were," he laughed.

"No, I really wasn't," she said again. He glared at her and frowned. She said, "Fine, I was wallowing. What are you still doing here? Why aren't you at the reception?"

"Heavens," he laughed, "it was asking a lot of me to just come to the ceremony. I certainly cannot imagine myself entertaining the thought of going to a reception with a bunch of Weasleys. I would probably be blinded by a sea of red hair."

She laughed. "Then why are you still here?"

"I was waiting for you, of course," he said.

"Why?"

"I don't know, really," he answered honestly. "You just seemed sad, and I don't know, but I thought I would wait for you. Do you want me to leave?"

When she did not tell him to leave, he was encouraged. Even though she was fragile, she was still open and receptive. He knew she could love again. At the time, he thought it might take a long time for her to trust him, open up, and accept his friendship. No one in his or her right mind would have thought it would only take a few hours.

At the time, he asked her, "So, are you mourning the fact that Weasley married someone besides you, or are you mourning the fact that you weren't the one getting married?"

"Aren't they the same thing?" she asked.

"No, you could just feel jealous that you weren't the one up there in the white dress, the gloves, and the veil. Weasley doesn't have to fit in that equation," he pointed out.

"Well, then," she mumbled, trying to be truthful, "I guess I am jealous. I want the marriage, the house, and the kids. It doesn't mean I want Ron."

"Hooray for you," he said, standing back up. He felt restless.

"What do you mean, hooray for me?" she asked, confused.

"I am just glad you can admit the truth. I would hate to think you would shed a tear over that Red-headed vermin," he laughed.

"Oh," she said softly.

He came and sat back down next to her on the wooden steps again. She was looking down at his black shoes. He said, "Are my shoes interesting?" She looked back up to his face and he asked another question, "What do you do now, Granger?"

They started talking small talk. She told him what she did for a living, even though he already knew. He told her what he did for a living, although he knew that she already knew as well.

She told him that she was going to leave. He asked her again if she was going to the reception, and she said no, she was heading home for some Vodka and ice cream. He thought that seemed sad. He told her he was going, even though he had absolutely no plans to attend a reception with a bunch of Weasleys.

They told each other goodbye, and she started to disapparate, when he came up to her and said, "By the way, you have some rice in your hair."

"Do I?" she wondered.

He reached up and removed several grains of white rice. He said, "Your hair is so much softer than I ever imagined it being." He was embarrassed at first that he had said that. She blushed as well. She started to run her hands through her hair.

She asked, "Did I get it all?"

He leaned in closer and said, "I believe you did." He looked away quickly, back toward the chapel. He knew in the depths of this soul that he wanted her more than anything he had ever wanted his entire life. "See you at the next wedding," he said to her, with no real intention of parting from her. He was just bidding time. He was trying to figure out how he could prolong their meeting. He didn't want to say goodbye, ever.

"Till then," she said, holding up her hand, to say goodbye.

Again, before she could leave, he said, "Would you like company tonight, or is it just going to be you and your special bottle of vodka?"

She grinned at him and asked, "What did you have in mind?"

He smiled a crooked smile and said, "Take my arm and find out." To his utter amazement and surprise, she did just that, and he took her to the reception. That was the beginning.

She looked back over to Draco as he reminisced about their meeting yesterday and said, "What are you thinking of so intently, Draco?"

"You." It was his only response, and it was true. He was thinking about her. When he thought about how he almost did not show up to the wedding, he broke out in a cold sweat. He might have missed all of this. If he had not shown up, he would not be sitting here at this point in time, the happiest man on earth. She smiled sweetly at him, and put her hand on his face. She leaned over closely and kissed his cheek. He smiled as well, a smile, which reflected her joy and happiness.

He said again, "I was just thinking of you, and how we met at the chapel, and how fate really is fickle, for if either of us had decided not to show up at the wedding, everything would have been lost, ruined."

"Yes, everything would have turned out differently, that's for sure," she added. "I would probably still be at home in my pajamas, perhaps with an empty bottle of vodka at my feet, and two empty cartons of ice cream on my bed. I would have a tear soaked face, mourning over what might have been, and what never would be."

He shuddered to think of that. Draco said, "If I hadn't decided to come, I would probably be lounging around, dreading the thought of going to work tomorrow, instead of looking forward to the start of my wonderful new life with you."

Hermione asked, "Why did you come?"

"I have been pondering that very question," Draco admitted, "and I wish I could say I came for you," he added wistfully, "but I really came to the wedding for selfish reasons. I wanted closure, too, you know?"

"Did you get your closure?" Hermione asked.

"No, instead, I got a new life, and that's better than closure," he said.

Hermione grinned and said, "What if I hadn't come to the reception with you. What would you have done?"

"You know, Hermione," Draco began, "at that point, that wasn't an option. I would have forced you to come, hell, I practically did, I mean, face it, you had no idea we were coming here. I knew you didn't want to come, but my own selfishness won out, and in the end, I'm so glad it did."

"I'm glad, too," she stated, "for if I had gone home, I really would still be empty, walking around with my broken heart, and broken existence, barely able to pick myself up and continue to live my empty life. Thank you, Draco."

"You're ever so welcome," he said seriously. He leaned over, cupped her face, and brought his lips to hers. He pressed her lips to his slightly, pulled back, and then came in again; applying more pressure, before he finally put his hand behind her neck, and forced her closer. He wanted to cry, for her lips never tasted sweeter, now that he knew she was his forever.

Draco took her hand, and led her through their guests, to walk with her toward the back garden. "Did you mean what you said in your vows, that you felt sad and lonely?"

"Yes, I did. I don't any longer," she said.

"I felt sad and lonely too, most of my life, and now I no longer feel that way either, funny huh?" he asked.

"Yes, hilarious," she added.

"I meant, funny, strange," he added.

"I know," she grinned. Hermione looked back toward the guests, and saw Ron standing all alone, on the outside of the crowd, watching them. She said, "He needs to go back to his wife."

Draco turned and looked back. "Maybe he's having his own regrets. Too little, too late." They both turned back around, and continued walking away from their guests.

"So, what happens tomorrow?" she asked.

"Well, since I'm apparently no longer disinherited, I think I will quit my job. I only worked there for fulfillment, which by the way, I never felt, until now. I haven't enjoyed my job for a long time. Perhaps we could take a long holiday," he said, pulling her into his warm embrace.

"I do love my job, and I don't want to quit, but I think they will let me have some time off for a honeymoon. They love me there, and I am due a vacation," she said. "Where shall we go?"

"It doesn't matter, as long as we're together," he waxed poetically.

She just stared at him a minute, and said, "We could just start our lives. Stay at home, get to know each other, learn what it's like to be married."

"I don't even know where you live," Draco suddenly realized.

Hermione laughed and said, "See, there's so much we don't know about each other. I have a small cottage, and I would like us to live there, if you have no objections."

"How small?" he asked, with the look of tasting something bad, on his face.

"Not that small. It's no Manor, but I love it," she said.

"Then I shall love it as well," he answered.

"We should get back to our guests," Hermione said. He started to walk back with her, but she wavered.

"I thought you wanted to go back," he said.

"I do, but, I also don't want this to end," she said sadly. "I want to carry on with you, here at the Burrow, the way I have the last two days, forever. Is that selfish?"

"Not at all," he said, "it's what I want as well, but that's impractical and unrealistic. Nevertheless, even good things must come to an end, and it's time for this story to end. We will continue on, though, perhaps with a new story someday."

"I would like that. I wonder if anyone else would?" she laughed.

"We'll find out, I'm sure," he answered. "Everyone will find a way to let us know if they want to hear from us again." They walked back to their guests, hand in hand. He stopped right as they reached the corner of the tent, took her face in his hands, and kissed her again. "I really do love you, you know," he said.

"I really do know that, you know, and I feel the same," Hermione answered. She took his hands from her face, and clasped them in hers. She said, "We really are an unlikely pair. We weren't even friends before this, we were barely acquaintances, and I didn't start out wanting to be more, but I'm so glad it evolved to what it is now. Are you?"

"What a stupid question," he said sincerely. "And we aren't that unlikely of a pair. We really are meant for each other. All great romance stories start with a boy and a girl, and that's all that's needed for a good story. You are the girl, and I am the boy, and we have fallen in love, and married, and so for now, do you know what that means?"

"The End?" she asked.

"Heavens, Granger, no," he laughed, "The Beginning."

The End……….or is it the beginning? (Read the Epilogue and find out!)


	42. Chapter 42 Epilogue

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**Chapter 42: Epilogue: An Unlikely Pair:**

"Dearest Granger, what are you pondering?" Draco asked his new wife, as she sat on a chair by the window, legs drawn up to her chin. He walked over from the bed and stood beside her. It was the morning after their wedding night, and they were in her small cottage.

"I'm thinking about where we go from here. We have just been through an amazing couple of days. I feel that we have lived a lifetime in a little over a twenty-four hour period, and now, I just want to know what is out there for us. What's next, you know?" she asked. He came up to her and pulled her off the chair. He took her place and pulled on her waist so that she was sitting on his lap.

"Why do we have to worry about it? It's really up to fate, isn't it? It's not our concern, what happens, happens," he said, tracing small circles on her arm.

"I still worry about it," she said. She examined his face closely. Her fingertips came up to his lips. She traced his lips twice and then leaned in for a kiss. "I just want to know what to expect. What everyone wants from us?"

"But don't you see," he argued, "that's what I am trying to tell you. It doesn't matter what we want, or what we expect, or what everyone else expects from us. All that matters is what happens. Just live our lives, no matter what occurs. Whether the next chapter of our lives is about what happens when we have our first child, or when we first visit our parents, or when we have our first anniversary, well, none of it matters. All that matters is that we do it together, and we share it with our friends. All of our friends who sat and worried about what was going to happen to us in the first story, will help to determine the next story. It's all good." He kissed her jaw. He lifted her hand, and brought her wrist to his mouth. He planted a small kiss on her wrist. He said, "Beloved."

"I like being called your beloved," she said. She placed her face in the crook of his neck. She shivered slightly. He wrapped his arms around her. "Nothing will seem shocking next to our crazy courtship and rapid marriage, would it?" The slender digits from both her hands wrapped themselves in his silky blond hair. "I never want this to end."

"Apparently you aren't the only one," he laughed. "Hey, Granger, I just had a wicked thought."

"We are on our honeymoon, I would expect you have," she laughed back.

"Get your mind out of the proverbial gutter, Granger. I meant I had a wicked thought about the last chapter of our story. It could be about twenty-four hours in bed."

She laughed and even snorted and pushed on his shoulder. "See, I knew it had to do with making love."

"I never said it didn't," he defended. "But, if you recall, this story isn't rated 'Mature', so I am sure it would have to have mostly talking, and not that much lovemaking, so I guess that's not a viable choice after all."

"Guess not," she agreed. She stood up and paced in front of him. The swoosh of her silk nightgown moved lightly around her legs as she walked. "I think the choices for a sequel should be, perhaps what happens the first weekend we spend with my parents. You know, introducing you to all things Muggle, and all. Learning about my childhood, looking at old photographs, the like." She turned. He was feigning sleep. She cocked her head to the side, stamped her foot and said, "Draco Malfoy pay attention!"

"OH, sorry, as soon as you said, 'all things Muggle', I fell asleep," he joked. "Why couldn't the next story be about the first weekend we spend with my parents? You liked to cry so much in the first story, I'm sure my parents will provide you with ample opportunity to cry some more."

"I'm sure," she said sarcastically. She sat on the edge of the bed.

He stood from the chair and sat next to her. He took her hand and said, "Don't Hero Boy and The She Weasel have an anniversary coming up? The story could be placed around that. You know, we would have to deal with Ron and Pansy, that might be fun, plus it could take place back at the Burrow, with all the familiar things that made us fall in love in the first place all around us."

"Yes, but doesn't that feel like it's been done?" she asked. He shrugged.

"Fine, Miss 'I write stories better than the author', what do you suggest?" he asked, falling back on the bed. He propped himself up with one elbow, on his side. She crawled next to him, on her side, and faced him.

"I think it would be a sweet story if it took place at our first wedding anniversary. We could spend twenty-four hours planning surprises for each other, and then have something romantic planned, like a romantic get-a-way or something." He yawned. She hit his arm.

"No, brilliant idea, truly, mind-blowing, I'm just tired, that was an honest to goodness, real yawn," he explained, yawning again. He crawled up to the pillows and kicked back the sheet. She crawled up next to him, and he cradled her in his arms. "We could do a story about this. Our first day of married life, wouldn't that be sweet?" he asked, kissing her forehead.

She looked up at him and said, "Yes, that would be nice, but maybe somewhat limited."

"If you have any other grand ideas to throw out, speak now. I'm on the verge of falling asleep here, Granger," he said.

She placed her hand over his heart. She then placed her ear there. She said, "It would be a nice story if we shared the day of the birth of our first child. Maybe not so romantic, but sort of , dare I say it again, sweet."

He smiled. He put his hand on her cheek. "Yes, very sweet. Perhaps a private moment, not to be shared with the world, but sweet, nonetheless. However, I have a funny feeling that we are worrying about things too much, for as I said before, it is out of our hands, and anyway, there is not going to be a sequel to this story. The author promised one of her little reviewers if she got 1000 reviews, she would write a sequel, and the last time she looked, she wasn't even close."

Hermione sat up in the bed and said, "Perhaps you weren't aware, Malfoy, but she is only 7 reviews from 1000. The possibility of a sequel is becoming a very real thing."

Draco, who now seemed slightly put out, said, "Well now, bloody hell, Granger, how is she to manage that? She just wrote an absolutely gut buster of a tearjerker, which took a lot out of her."

Hermione interrupted, "Yes, but she found it very rewarding, also."

"Too true, but isn't she working on a little romantic comedy thing right now, something about an election, and then I believe she is going to do the final story in that series she's written, 'A Week in the Life' or something. No, she does not have time to worry about us. She has other 'Draco and Hermiones' to worry about," he said. He lay back down and said, "Hush now, and don't even speak of such things. We are all worrying too much."

"But Draco, she writes about a story a month, so it wouldn't be that hard of a thing for her to do," Hermione said, shifting in his arms. "She doesn't seem to have much of a life, so I think she has time."

"Now you have me worried," Draco said. He sat upright in bed. "How ever will she decide on the plotline? This affects us more than it does her! I need to know, and I need to know now, what will our next story be?"

Hermione pushed him back to the bed, and put her chin on his chest. "It's out of our hands. She's going to let the people decide. Whatever they want, they will get. It will be one of the six scenarios, and we don't have much say about it, for we are fictional characters, after all."

"You might be fictional, but I am a real man, Granger, and don't you forget it," he said.

Hermione snickered and said, "Yes, yes, real man, real man. Go to sleep now Draco, and when we wake up, we will, without a doubt, be in our new story, with new adventures, and new possibilities. Like you said earlier, there's not much we can do about it, so we shouldn't worry."

"I am glad to see you are finally admitting that I am right about everything," he said. He looked down at his wife, and her eyes were closed. He said, "At least I know I'm right about everything." He looked up at the ceiling and said, "To all you people out there, you better make the right decision, for this is your last chance to have a peek into our lives, I tell you. In addition, I have a request, might we do this story with a 'Mature' rating? Just a suggestion, we don't have to." He held his wife closer and stroked her hair until he too fell asleep.

THE END to Part I (on to the sequel…"An Unlikely Pair, Again"!)

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_A/N: Thanks to everyone who made this little story so popular and successful. The story of how the Hermione's parents met and married quickly was my parents' true story. The story of the little white rock really happened to me and my father. There are two sequels to this story….__An Unlikely Pair, Again__ & __An Unlikely Pair, No Longer__. Happy Reading!_


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